


Losers

by kinpika



Category: Best Friends Forever (Webcomic)
Genre: General dislike to secretly screwing to occasional feelings to fireworks, Louis Lindbeck doesn't believe in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-04 22:04:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5350118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“...You wanna do this again?”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“Sure. Secretly fucking the quarterback is just too good to pass up.”</i>
</p><p>Louis should've known better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losers

**Author's Note:**

> after being linked bff and speed reading and falling in love with louis and then vincent and vinlou... i wrote this... enjoy

Louis doesn’t start at Victoria High until junior year. But he knows everyone, just about. Or at least, everyone he is told he should know, because John took it upon himself to steer Louis towards the football crowd. It’s not that Louis doesn’t like John, but John should just mind his own business, really. With some apprehension, he does join in, because Louis has met John’s type and never really got along with that crowd. Something about being _gay_. Louis doesn’t really know all the details, and he’s not above kneeing some jerk in the balls for anything like that.

For the sake of his mother, Louis just grins and bears it, and spends summer before junior year throwing ridiculous parties, and meeting Kamri. God, he loves her. She gets him, somehow. Kamri doesn’t have nearly the really fucked up family relations that he does, but she _gets_ _it_. Talks to him. They end up sitting up till all hours of the night just talking. Louis hasn’t felt that airy in a while.

(Hell, Kamri even let Louis be Black Widow for Halloween that year. She was definitely a keeper)

Things started to go good, even if the actual time spent in school just became a blur. Louis doesn’t remember much of it. All he really remembers is getting really, really pissed one night with Kamri, and telling her in explicit detail all his personal rules about relationships. simply because she’d made some offhand comment about this guy she was hot for, and how Louis just never seemed to settle down.

“If I were to go out with someone seriously, it would have to be pretty fucking special. Like,” with sound effects and laughter, he turns to her, “ _fireworks_. All the time.”

“But you don’t go out with people!” she laughed, slapping him on the chest.

“Exactly!” Louis had grinned at that. No, he didn’t. No fireworks.

It’s the one thing Kamri doesn’t really understand, because her parents are still on their first marriage. Louis told her when they get to their third or fourth, she’ll get that part.

 

 

Louis meets the object of Kamri’s affections after summer, in a French class that had him doodling (in explicit detail), various sex positions. At least his teacher thought it was vaguely artistic, simply because he was writing alongside descriptions _in_ French. (“Some people learn differently, Mr Lindbeck,” his teacher had told him, and Louis was honestly mildly concerned. But completely amused.)

Mr Broad Shoulders is just about to drill a hole into the side of his head with a pencil, and Louis kind of gets it. Kind of, with some hesitance, because this is the guy that Kamri’s got her panties in a twist over. At least, Louis is pretty sure they’re together. Well, he knows Kamri is all about him.

Spending the rest of the lesson wondering if they were together _together_ or just dicking around, Louis misses half his homework. “Shit,” he mutters, as he’s packing his books away. But, honestly, who gives homework in the first week of class? That’s just cruel. It didn’t really matter anyway. His mother insisted on a bunch of lessons during his life, and French was one of them. At least his tutor then was cute.

“Did you miss the last of the notes?” Whipping around, Louis meets the _eye_ of Kamri’s thing. Person. (Partner?)

Who honestly had that sort of haircut in this day and age?

“I suppose I did,” Louis responds, tight lipped.

Boy seems to drop away then, shrinking as he mumbles. Louis didn’t like mumblers. He might’ve been cute, and fit Louis’ type to a T — ignoring the haircut — but, he just shouldn’t open his mouth. And he should smile more. Push his hair back. There’s a slight dip in the centre of his lower lip, and when he starts to smile (awkwardly, Louis notes), he has a dimple.

Louis can kind of get what Kamri sees in him.

“I can uh… give you the homework if you want…?”

With a frown, Louis accepts, simply because he doesn’t want his mother to call his father and complain that a week in and already he’s in trouble. As he’s writing, Louis can’t help but look up at him. They’re a little too close, and he’s breathing kind of heavily. Embarrassed? Louis was quite proud he had that effect on people already. Except —

“Vincent!”

Both of them whip around towards the door. The room was clear, except for _Madame_ Michaut and a couple of students already asking for extra work (fucking nerds), and a short, thin boy, standing in the doorway.

Louis doesn’t need introductions, because he can just see it clear on both of their faces. “Thanks for the notes,” he says with a wave, and floats past short and skinny. With a laugh, Louis rolls his eyes, and walks down the hallway.

(Kamri doesn’t find it all that funny, but Louis sure as hell does)

 

 

“But I don’t _like_ sports, Kamri. Why am I even here?”

“Because _I_ like them, and you like me, so suck it up.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Louis falls onto the bench just before the track. He recognises Bianca and Charli from the group of girls, and falls into the easy rhythm of babbling away with them as they warm up. It was tiring just watching them stretch, honestly. Louis just wanted to go home and veg out on the couch with some movie his dad said he’d like.

Kamri eventually breaks it up, just as the football team makes their way out onto the field. Holding his hands up, Louis pretends to film it all. “Typical fucking teen drama,” he mutters, watching just about every cheerleader on the squad turn towards the footballers.

Towards _Vincent_. Louis eventually got the surname to go with it — Fawkes. And Louis thought his name was a bit too fancy some of the time, but ‘Vincent Fawkes’ was another level. Louis had to wonder if it was his dad who was the fantasy buff.

“We’re starting now. And don’t even _think_ about ditching me this time. I’ll skin your skinny ass if you do.”

Blowing Kamri a kiss, Louis watches her take off like a rocket when the cheer squad begin to practice. With an exaggerated sigh, Louis leaned back on the bench, fished out his phone, and began flicking through various messages. Killing time, because like hell he was going to try to drive John’s car home, only to have to come pick him up after practice. Louis particularly liked living.

At what he assumed was halfway through practice, when they’d all huddled and were drinking water like their lives depended on it, Louis noticed it. A barely there ripple in the tender team, but tall, blond and handsome wasn't looking at the coach. His face was turned Louis’ way, a smile there showing a dimple on the left side of his face.

Had Louis been a year younger, he might’ve thought it was for him. But with age comes experience, so Louis pretended to stretch, raising his arms above his shoulders, and casting a gaze back to see who was responding. Directly behind Louis in the stand was the small boy, waving back.

 

“Hey, what’s that kid’s name?”

Kamri looks at him funny, as if he should’ve known that early on. “That’s Teddy Bijapur.”

“Huh. No shit.”

“Maybe you’ve been out in the sun too long,” Kamri remarks, pressing her hand against Louis’ forehead.

“Shut up. Let’s go already, I’m bored and you need to make it up to me.”

 

 

The more Kamri goes out with him, the more Louis hears about him. Vincent this and Vincent that. Not that they actually do the couple-y things everyone else is doing, Louis noted one night. No dinners, no movies, no 1980s bowling dates complete with shared hotdogs. It was kind of sad listening to Kamri harp on about Vincent, only to find out the most interaction they have is at school, and back at her place.

“He’s using you, babe,” Louis says offhandedly, one night, because he damn well was and at least when Louis did it he was honest about it.

“No, he’s not.”

“Uh, you pay for, like, _everything_ , if you two ever go out. He never goes to parties with you, let alone at all. And, you even said he can’t get it up. Wonderboy is just using you to look good.”

Kamri goes quiet then, picking at the label on her beer bottle. Oh, too far. But, she needed a wakeup call, it was only fair (right?).

“Louis… he’s a scholarship student. Like, full scholarship. And from what he’s told me, he works like three jobs or something just to support himself.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. You’ve only been here a couple of months so you wouldn’t know, but Vincent is a good guy. He’s just—”

“Broke as fuck?”

Finally, Kamri laughs, and stops picking at that damn label. “Something like that.”

“Well, that explains something.”

“What?”

With a grin, Louis throws himself in her lap. “Why he always smells like he crawled out of a sewer.”

“Oh my god, he does not!”

But, she’s laughing, and Louis takes this as a partial forgiveness. Simply because, Kamri is happy with Vincent, broke or not. They’re not super serious, as she reminds him later, just a thing. When she tries to call it ‘friends with benefits’, Louis has to remind her that there was no real benefit.

“Whatever, I like him, okay? Lay off him, jesus.”

“Okay, okay. I don’t like him, but for your sake, because I love you with my entire being, I’ll play nice.”

“Wait — why don’t you like him?”

Louis has to shrug. How did he politely explain that, it was just a gut feeling, but Vincent wasn’t all he was cracked up to be. And, Louis just didn’t like him anyway. Too dramatic, even for him. Whatever, he sighs, as he pushes Kamri away. They had several seasons of that new show Charli was talking about to watch, and Louis didn’t want to talk about boys and their dick problems right now.

 

 

Over summer before senior year, Louis kicks it up with Kamri, Bianca and Charli, in a very nice property owned by Bianca’s father, who loves his daughter so much that she invites the entire football team, cheerleading squad, and then some. And he doesn’t even bat an eyelash.

For a while, he’s able to forget about school, responsibilities, how his grindr account was collecting cobwebs when he meets a cute bartender at a club in town for the duration of his stay. Louis is just able to be Louis, Louis Lindbeck, and that’s all that matters.

Until Kamri shows him a text from Vincent, reconfirming that yes, they were dating now, and yes, he couldn’t wait to see her in a week. Louis gagged and teased and nearly typed out some response for her, until he saw the photo she had for him. Slightly sunburnt cheeks, hair pushed back, dimple on display and sunny blue eyes.

“He’s cute,” is all he says, when Kamri tries to snatch back her phone.

Eventually, he relents, wanders out on the balcony and pulls out his phone. There’s a text from the bartender, Tim or Jack or something like that, and Louis doesn’t pause to answer. He still had a week left of freedom, after all. He could worry about Kamri’s problems later.

 

 

Vincent _reacts_. That’s how Louis knows something is up.

It isn’t just the normal brush off that he receives from the football team, the occasional scowl from John, or the absolute misinterpretation from Teddy. It’s a genuine reaction, a hair-trigger, face-flushing, voice-raising _reaction_. Louis finds it absolutely intoxicating to indulge.

There’s something in the way Vincent actually gets riled up about it, about the nudges in the sides and the somewhat transparent suggestions Louis likes to send his way. He always has, especially since Kamri just loves to tell him about how Vincent gets at suggestions. Apparently, according to Kamri and several other cheerleaders, Vincent definitely likes sex — he’s just not very good at it, nor does he like anything vaguely suggestive outside the mood. Louis isn’t stupid. And, as much as he liked teasing Kamri about Vincent’s limp dick situation, there was that niggling thought.

But it was the bake sale that had him really notice. A simple question about whether Teddy licked the spoon. A naive response that Vincent was the one who did. The rather embarrassed look on Vincent’s face at the revelation, followed by him going red in the face when Louis drives the point home. He couldn’t resist.

“So, what’s it like, taking it in at once?”

Vincent doesn’t really say anything, just flares up in that way of his. Raises a fist when Louis leans in close, smirking in a way he knows that Vincent isn’t too thick to notice. Louis isn’t quite sure if he likes the way Vincent panics or not, looking around to see if anyone heard. A lightbulb goes off in Louis’ head, and he really struggles not to point and laugh.

“It’s not like that!”

“What’s not like that?”

Teddy returns, looking between Vincent and himself, before settling on Vincent. Louis rolls his eyes, notes the nod from Bianca over Teddy’s shoulder and grins. “As lovely a chat as this was, duty calls.”

Vincent mutters something that vaguely sounds like “good riddance”, and Teddy is ever the voice of calm reason. If he was being frank, the lovesick look that ultimately followed from Vincent was quite sickening. Making a face, Louis props himself up on the nearest table, and just watches.

 

When Louis is putting a wad of notes in the cash box, he catches Vincent staring. With a finger to his lips, Louis only winks, and lowers the lid.

 

 

The Kingsley household was different to his dad’s house in LA. Despite being ushered into this family shortly after John’s mother passed, Louis never really felt the vibe. His mother was as flighty as she had been when she was married to his father, Dr. Kingsley was always on John’s back about something — mostly sports —, and John himself was an utter loser to deal with most of the time. It was more him verse them, in a very tender sense. John never really bothered him, and Louis never really bothered him.

Except when he wanted something.

“Dude, why do you care so much?”

John’s new console blares through the room, and Louis taps a reply to Kamri before turning to him. “I like gossip, is that so hard to believe.”

There’s a roll of his eyes, and Louis almost feels proud that John actually knows how to do that now. When they’d been introduced, John had never heard of sarcasm.

“Go talk to the cheerleaders then.”

“But Kamri told me everything she knows _already_.”

There’s a huff, and John finally pauses his game to look at Louis. Staring back, Louis watches as John rolls about twelve different decisions over in his mind, before giving up. “He’s coming over tonight, why don’t you just ask him then?”

With a blink, Louis takes in what John just offered, before leaning back, squinting. “You’re saying I can sit with you and your ‘friends’.” A first. Normally Louis would sit in the upstairs lounge, blaring all sorts of music until John finally pissed off to wherever they went. That was the line for John: acknowledgment for the most part in public, but otherwise Louis was just mostly background noise until they were alone.

Louis found it almost frightening. But, he smoothed out his face to return to a broad grin. “I might just have to take you up on that offer, dear brother.”

John makes a face, and turns back to his game. “Don’t call me that.”

 

Louis realises that Vincent is _really_ fun to mess with shortly after the bake sale but definitely before falling into his lap. He lands, with all the grace of trying to make a point, a “this seems like a good spot!” leaving him, only just before he’s pushed to the floor.

Maybe he is slightly masochistic, but when Vincent yells, and pushes his face away when Louis leans up, Louis realises something.

Vincent has a very pretty set of sad blue eyes. And Louis has always been a sucker for blue eyes.

 

They follow Teddy and Vincent around, and at the diner Louis had to say he looked particularly attractive in his hat. And at least he put some effort into hiding, unlike the rest of them. Sipping his wine, and listening to Andre bitch on about how this was a waste of time, Louis wanted to zone out, and watch Vincent seem to sparkle at Teddy.

At least he could see that much.

“Lower your arm,” he hisses, when John goes to point at something.

Burger, vegetarian, shared food. Teddy pays when Vincent isn’t looking. Well, Louis knew that Vincent wasn’t particularly flooded with cash (everyone did), but that sad. Pathetic, even. It was almost endearing.

Until Hurricane Vincent appeared at their table, Andre nearly knocking over the bottle of wine in shock. They’re dismissed, and Louis takes the bottle with a salute at Vincent. It only serves to rile him up further, and Louis laughs at that.

“I told you it wouldn’t work,” Andre sighs, as they make their way to the car.

Silent guy nods, and Louis ignores it as he slides into the passenger seat. “Follow them.”

 

Vincent sings. Louis is thankful it’s dark enough in the car that no one can see the blood rush to his cheeks.

 

 

Kamri tells him _all_ about how she wasn’t able to wear Vincent’s away game shirt _again_ , and how Teddy was wearing it _again_. And how she gets that they’re best friends, but _she’s_ the girlfriend.

“Maybe they have a thing,” he notes, with a flourish.

“A what?”

“Y’know. Everyone _knows_ they spent the summer together. Maybe they fucked.”

Naturally, Kamri doesn’t like that. Which Louis finds ironic considering she spent the last week lamenting that her boyfriend might’ve had a thing with his best friend. Not that she was against it! she would say, instantly on the defensive. Louis would roll his eyes, bring up Vincent again, rinse and repeat. Frankly, he was getting quite tired of _wonderboy_. Sure, he was good looking (and could sing!), and definitely fit Louis’ type to a T, except…

Louis could see Vincent making eyes at Teddy from a mile away. Watching him be pathetically cute was borderline sad, but definitely hilarious. Mostly the latter, as Louis struggled not to laugh as they got absolutely smashed by the opposition, simply because their poor quarterback kept looking to the sidelines.

When Andre lights him up, Louis can still see that Vincent hasn’t quite caught on yet why he didn’t play so well. John reacts as aggressive as always, and Louis doesn’t quite manage to get a word in beyond “typical you lose when you need the scholarship.” It doesn’t register for Vincent, until John is on his feet, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him.

There’s a dulled urge in Louis, to say something. It might be to do with the kicked puppy look on Vincent’s face. He probably should, being the step-brother, but Teddy saves Vincent, unknowingly or not. Vincent snaps to it then, despite the not-so-vague threats from John, and Louis can’t even help his sigh.

Typical closet case.

In the carpark, Louis stamps out the light with the toe of his shoe, and looks across to see them make their way to Vincent’s car. Teddy is likely saying something encouraging. Vincent rubs the back of his neck, likely denying it, saying it’s his fault. It is, Louis thinks, when John goes on another rant about that _fucking loser and his fucking girlfriend._

 

He takes it back though, very, very quickly, when Louis sends him a dark look. Closet case or no, Louis can’t stand that sort of talk.

 

 

He’s _moping_. After everything, Vincent is leaning over the balcony with a probably half full bottle of beer and _moping_. Goddamn, he just knows how to rain on Louis’ parade. Vincent even won the fucking _crown_ , and he’s still acting like he’s got a stick up his arse (no, Louis has not had enough to drink to think about that too deeply).

“Vinny,” Louis teases, leaning into his side, his own beer in hand. “You have got to cheer up.”

Vincent doesn’t, because he’s a stupid teenager with an emo haircut in this day and age, and Louis is so over it. “Have another one,” he sighs, handing another can to Vincent after he magnificently squashes a can in his hand. That was quite impressive, if Louis had to say so himself, even if it was an absolute waste.

Louis hopes that Vincent is the kind of drinker who hits his high around the second one. Not nearly four down the line, because he wasn’t prepared for that sort of thing. Andre and John are in the background, very nearly pissed (Louis loves how John is a lightweight), and just as he managed to bring Vincent down to eye level, they make their move.

To be fair, they had a point. Bianca would kick up a fuss solely because she wasn’t invited, and then she’d tell Kamri, who would be even more pissed off, and then she’d likely tell the whole cheer squad that Louis was holding out on her and naturally it would make it’s way to the teachers. Suspension, likely.

“Give me that.” Taking the crown and a joint, Louis fits it nicely on his head, inhales sharply, and makes his way back downstairs. At the door, he pauses just long enough to see Vincent still staring out over the carpark like it might tell him something, and then he gives up.

Bianca gives him a thorough grilling, regardless that he returns to the party when it’s in full swing. Apparently someone spiked the punch. Louis almost wishes he hadn’t brought the beer then, had he known.

“Where is Todd anyway?” Louis interjects, before Bianca starts up again over his apparent eye colour.

Todd was supposed to take him to the party, get pissed with him, and then they were supposed to find somewhere mildly comfortable enough to get their pants down. Louis’ entire night was ruined, and he even ended up babysitting the depressed quarterback for nearly two minutes. Dreadful.

Eventually, he finds Todd. Who is just as pissed as Charli said, but not nearly long enough. Louis smiled, placed a hand on his chest, and shoved him into a corner. Todd Allison was far too easily persuaded by Louis. God, it almost made him feel worse about the night.

“I just had the worst hookup of my life,” he complains to Kamri, who was still nursing her punch. Louis eyed it, not quite sure she was actually drinking it.

“At least you got laid.”

“I didn’t even get _that_ far. I got my hand in his pants and then he said he wanted to dance.”

Scowling, Louis watched as those couples who were still able to function reasonably well moved onto the dance floor. Slowly, soft music filtered through the speakers, lighting dimmed, and cheesy lyrics worked through the air. Great, just great. Louis didn’t even try to hide his disgust at the display.

“Do you wanna dance?”

“Kamri, how much have you drunk tonight?”

She shrugs, and finally sets her glass down. With all the grace of a baby elephant learning to walk, Kamri manages to get herself on even flooring, then offers a hand to Louis. “To the Dumpees Dance Club.”

Louis laughs, and takes the offered hand. “Technically, _you_ dumped _your_ boyfriend.”

Making a flippant hand gesture, they make their way into the centre of the couples. “Hands above my waist, if you will,” Louis teases, wiggling his eyebrows when Kamri links her arms around his shoulders.

“You’re terrible.” But she’s laughing now, not vaguing out on him anymore with that sad sort of look.

Until they both spot Vincent and Teddy, wrapped up in each other beside them. Louis isn’t quite sure who he should feel worse for — Kamri, or Vincent.

 

 

It’s not until he’s falling into bed after kicking Todd Allison to the curb, that he realises he’s still got the crown on his head. Gingerly, Louis takes it off, turning it over in his hands. Cheap plastic, and one of the ‘jewels’ was already missing. Louis isn’t quite sure what to do with the thing.

Picking up his phone, Louis wonders if Vincent would honestly want it back. Despite scrolling through his contacts twice, Louis can only give a small “oh” when he notes that he doesn’t have Vincent’s number. Hovering over Teddy’s name, Louis has to wonder if Teddy is the kind of guy to take phone calls at three thirty seven in the morning, and turns his screen off.

The crown ends up on some statue Louis got from his mother as an apology one time, and is forgotten like everything else.

 

 

Louis really does like Teddy. He’s a good guy, never ever has a bad word to say, and he’s a pretty good council president. Plus, he’s got a great eye for clothing, and as Louis watches him choose several thin long sleeved shirts, Louis wonders if he could sneak one of his own into his pile of clothing.

Teddy also likes to talk, and not just all the gossipy, watery bullshit that Louis puts up with at school. It’s politics and history and that chemistry homework from Tuesday because Louis kind of forgot and Teddy runs him through the basic concepts with the only interjection of “is this colour alright?”

And definitely, Louis also likes Teddy because everyone knows his house is huge, and he wants a party. A party for Vincent, but a party nonetheless. Most importantly, Teddy came to him about it. Louis is all too happy to oblige, because just from the small details alone, he can understand that Dr. DILF will honestly have no qualms with their entire year and below drinking at his house.

(Louis definitely notes the avoidance when he brings up how Teddy’s parents don’t care. He files that away for later)

“Speak of the devil,” he mutters, when Vincent interrupts. Quite rudely, considering it was supposed to be a party for him and well, Louis might just un-invite him if he keeps glaring at him like that.

But he can’t resist. “You could always ‘work’ for me,” he says with a grin, fingers brushing against Vincent’s lanyard.

Vincent flushes, annoyance on his face clear, as he asks how many Louis wants to try on. Again. “Want to help?” Louis offers with a wink. Vincent looks like he might punch him. And Louis wonders if he would actually let him.

It’s Teddy who breaks it up, instantly taking Vincent’s attention. So fast, Louis has a moment at least to train his face into something neutral, especially when asking _why_ Teddy insisted on trying those clothes on at home.

“It would be much easier here,” Louis says, noting the way Teddy draws his sleeves further down his arms the longer Louis stares. Discomfort. Interesting.

Louis was just about to comment, something airy, nothing to be misinterpreted, when Vincent suddenly hauls him in the air. It was oddly terrifying, and Louis had a newfound appreciation for his real height, as he thumps a fist into the middle of Vincent’s back. “Let me down!”

Yet Vincent is a lovestruck fool, and completely dismisses anything Louis has to say.

“At least buy me dinner first!” it’s the last thing Louis gets out, before he lands on unsteady feet, several metres away from the change rooms. Teddy is gone, and Vincent doesn’t even give him another look, before disappearing out the back.

“Fucking drama queens!”

 

 

Cyril is his new hip attachment. At least, that’s what Kamri calls him. Louis doesn’t mind so much, because Cyril is so whipped it’s almost physically painful. But he gets discounts on weed, and Cyril knows how to get in to some of the better clubs, and it’s a win-win situation, because finally Louis is getting laid.

“I’m _that_ good,” he gloats, utterly shameless, when Bianca asks how it happened. They all know it was Andre who set him up, but the sex definitely had something to do with it as well.

Naturally they groan, he gets pushed off a couch, and Cyril is helping him to his feet. Louis doesn’t mind, because John is giving him the stink eye, and Louis honestly debates whipping his dick out then just to piss him off further.

No, bad idea, not his house. Whilst Louis almost wanted to do it out of spite, staring up at the Bijapur household, he didn’t think that would be worth the risk. Well, if push came to shove, they could just skip across the road for an hour or so.

“He’s here!”

Kamri is first over to the door, and Louis feels kind of bad for her. Simply because, Vincent looks over his shoulder, and Louis wasn’t nearly fucked up enough not to notice how he seemed to want to go back in. There was some odd symbolism and shit with the light around Teddy, but Cyril starts palming him through his pants, and it’s all lost on Louis.

Louis is not successful enough into talking Vincent into strip poker. But he does convince him to do shots off Kamri’s stomach, something that he promises he will never let her forget.

Vincent does also not miss the way Louis slides his hand up and down the neck of the champagne bottle. That blush was growing on Louis, he notes, despite Cyril squeezing his ass through his jeans. Louis drinks straight from the bottle, and licks his lips, wondering if Vincent will catch on.

His failed attempt to pick up his girlfriend tells Louis everything.

Eventually, Cyril leads him out into the grounds, behind a tree, and drops to his knees. He bitches about the condom, tries to talk all about how good Louis feels, but Louis just scowls and pushes him away.

Because he can hear Vincent just a way over from where they were, and the idiot was talking to himself.

“Oh my god, is he confessing?”

“Babe, come on, I’m sorry I —”

“Shut up, Cyril!”

Louis misses the last bit of the monologue, because he can hear Teddy suddenly. Boring. Vincent fumbling over his words was no fun, when he wasn’t in the immediate vicinity. Looking back at Cyril, who was spouting something about being sorry and how protection “was cool”, Louis relents. Only because, he’s frustrated and pissed off and Cyril does this great trick with his tongue. That’s the only reason.

His moaning is ignored by the close company, and that just only pisses him off further. God, what does it take to get them to just throw themselves at each other.

Louis is smoking, when he sees them run off. Fucking A.

 

They’re back within enough time that no one really notices. But, Louis does. No amount of cake being thrown is distracting enough, and no amount of times he gets pushed into the pool, does he miss just how much they’re all over each other.

 

 

Cyril goes home early. Everyone else starts dragging themselves down the street. Louis drinks alone in his room.

 

 

Despite John bleating on about him getting up when it was starting to get dark, he was up hours earlier. He just didn’t want to see John’s sorry beaten ass. Him being a fuckwit and getting a black eye for whatever it was honestly wasn’t Louis’ fault. But he had the best taste in pizza toppings and sides, and Louis would put up with it for the sake of food.

After all, Kamri had been on the phone since mid afternoon, complaining how her quarterback (Louis noted she stopped using the word ‘boyfriend’) ditched the party.

“So, I wasn’t the only one.”

_“Louis?! You knew?! Why didn’t you tell me?”_

“Because this would happen. Kamri, I love you, but _come_ _on_.”

_“Well… like what the actual fuck, honestly? I’m so over this.”_

“I know.”

_“… do you think they’re fucking?”_

Louis had laughed then. “Probably not.”

_“Why not?!”_

“Vincent still can’t get it up, even when dreamboat Bijapur is in his arms, all wet and half naked.”

_“Ew, I can’t believe you just said that. I’m gonna go barf.”_

“Kam! Can you just imagine wrapping your arms around that tan skin—”

_“Louis, I swear to fucking god —”_

“Well, that’s just rude.”

_“—Shut the fuck up.”_

Kamri is the one who goes silent then. Louis almost wants to point it out, but he could hear her roll over, and she must have been talking into a pillow, because her next sentence is muffled. _“I feel bad for him.”_

Louis thought about Vincent looking like a kicked puppy half the time, and how he would when he realised Teddy made a move on Penelope. “Same here.”

 

 

Teddy’s sister might’ve had whatever reasons for clubbing John around the head (something Louis doesn’t let go of for the rest of the day), but Louis can feel the urge rising too, when John starts going. Andre’s talking about how he wants Teddy and Vincent to end up together, and it starts. The typical sort of talk he had expected from this kind of school. Louis couldn’t deny a small want to run back to his dad’s place, and ask him to send him back to school with all his old friends.

“Is this conversation going to be too _gay_ for you, John?”

“Fuck that’s not what I — Louis, you know I didn’t — come on —”

“Are you sure?” Louis does not hold back, because he’s had it up to here with the way people have started to dial back after throwing a comment about how Vincent ‘might be gay’. Yes, Louis is fully aware that he is a closet case. Shocking. Fuck off.

He’s also over Andre wanting them to hook up. Why? They’re so fucking obnoxious. Louis grits his teeth, and is so thankful that John takes this opportunity to disappear. Christ, Louis wanted to punch him so bad. Give him a matching black eye.

 

Louis is also really over how everyone dodges around how Teddy and John aren’t on the best terms. From how John described it, he was just being a colossal asshole. From how Andre dodged around the question (John’s mother dying, Louis’ mother moving in, the wedding, Teddy, friends, not friends, beating the ever-loving shit out of Teddy, and getting the shit beat out of him in turn by Vincent), Louis figured it was something to get to the bottom of.

Especially if Teddy’s sister cracked John around the head with a _bottle_.

 

 

Lying about the cheerleading squad booting him off to Teddy, and then about Teddy quitting to Bianca barely had Louis bat an eyelash. He was just the faux messenger. Andre was pleased. Andre was pleased enough he let his vague curiosity talk him into a quick fix in the locker room. Louis had never been more disgusted with fulfilling some weird fantasy of his, but the deed was done.

Both of them.

Louis doesn’t hang around for the game. Apparently, they win. Kamri is over his house in a flash after the post run-on-field-and-hoist-quarterback-in-air thing is over. They’re setting up, because it’s not like John gives enough of a shit, and well, it had been a while since they’ve won.

“Louis, are we done yet?”

“Is Charli bringing everything over?”

“Andre’s helping her with the kegs!”

“Thank god.”

One less thing for Louis to drag himself over to pick up. When they’ve dragged the last of the couches out, Louis throws himself over the arm. Kamri settles herself on his stomach, tapping away at her phone, sending out the last of the invites.

“Vincent is coming.”

Louis looks at her then, sitting himself up just enough. “Teddy as well?”

“No, apparently he’s going out to dinner with his girlfriend.”

Falling back, Louis kicks his foot once, and hears the cars finally pull up. “This should be interesting.”

“I don’t get what your fascination with him is.”

Kamri is off and walking away when she says that. “Neither do I,” Louis mutters, following just as people start to pile in.

 

Louis really wanted Vincent to kiss him. It was definitely the alcohol talking.

Maybe his reputation of being spiteful enough was getting ahead of him, as everyone thought he was joking. No, Louis just wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

 

Why was he going to look for him? It’s not as if he cared. God, he was so over the bullshit Vincent was pulling about trying not to ‘look gay’. Louis didn’t think anyone would really give as much of a shit as he thought they did. John got over it pretty quickly, and Louis was pretty sure he just hated Vincent’s guts because he was the quarterback, and John wasn’t.

Fuck, he didn’t get sports.

Maybe it was luck that Louis decided to duck upstairs, to the study that was stuck between his and John’s rooms. It was mostly used as a place for old furniture, because neither of them did homework in there like his mother had intended. Louis only liked the room because it was the last place anyone ever looked for him.

Pushing the door open, he looked in, and knew those shoulders from a mile away. Typical, Vincent somehow managed to get himself up here.

“What are you doing here?”

Vincent jumps, nearly knocks his drink over, and spins around. Louis looks him up and down once, instantly recognising that pose. He’d done it himself a couple of times when he’d hoped a hookup would finally call him first.

“If you didn’t want to be here, no one would care if you left.”

Clicking his tongue, Vincent turns back around, staring at absolutely nothing in particular. With a sigh, Louis runs his hands through his hair. Let’s his eyes wander, because he’s shameless and Vincent is really attractive, and drunk, and he’s lonely and sad and Louis is not really above it after all.

“Hey… now that we’re alone… you can kiss me.”

“What?!”

That gets a reaction. Vincent spins around again, no almost drink spilling, and towers over Louis. He’s pissed, in more ways than one, and Louis drops his eyes to Vincent’s lips. From what the cheerleaders told him, Vincent wasn’t too bad at going down.

“Oh come on, we both know you’ve been thinking about it.”

Louis reaches out for him, pressing a hand against Vincent’s chest. Oh god, he was _solid_.

“Get away from me!”

Vincent shoves him back into the balcony, and Louis wonders if he tipped over would Vincent care enough. Watching him disappear back into the house, Louis figures he probably wouldn’t.

 

Louis hadn’t realised how frustrated he was. All this Vincent bullshit was doing something to him.

 

“Oh, god, there right there harder come on — _ahn_ …”

Louis slaps his hips forward, and struggles not to roll his eyes. He really wasn’t fond of people who talked while he fucked them. Just shut up and moan.

Reaching around, Louis takes his cock in hand, pumping him. Shut up, he thinks, pressing his forehead into the centre of the back in front of him. It wasn’t quite as broad as he liked, but it would have to do.

 

 

What are the chances that as Vincent comes to pick up his car, he see Louis out the front. Out the front with Tim from chemistry, who talks far too much for Louis, but kisses pretty well. Louis watches Vincent drive off, and laughs.

 

 

“Turn it down!” It’s all the warning he gives John before he picks up. “Kamri—”

_“I had to choose the only gay footballer on the team, didn’t I?”_

“Oh, did he come out?”

John gives him a look, and Louis rolls his eyes, switching to speaker. “Keep the volume down,” he whispers, as Kamri is still going on about her double date. “What was that?”

_“So Penelope said that Vincent basically tried to kiss Teddy, got blown off, but Teddy is wildly convinced that he didn’t mean anything like that!”_

“I’m pretty Vincent is the kind of guy who would.”

_“I can guarantee.”_

Louis can see John gagging out the corner of his eye, and waves him off. _“But like, then Teddy went on to say all about how it wouldn’t be possible for him and Vincent to go out and — as mad as I am at Vincent for not telling me — … he looked so upset.”_

“Uh huh.”

_“And Penelope was trying to get Teddy to just shut up but he just wouldn’t. He probably didn’t realise but…”_

“Of course he didn’t realise. Teddy, bless his soul, is fucking awful at this.”

Kamri goes quiet, and Louis takes the time to judge how John seems to be gripping the controller just that little bit too tightly, more than his usual frustration at dying at this particular stage. That was something he honestly wanted to get to the bottom of too — how John fit into everything.

 _“I just —_ ugh _— if all the other girls find out, I’ll never live it down.”_

“Neither will they. They’ve all tried to ride his limp dick.” Louis twirls a strand of hair, as he grins. “I warned you.”

“But he’s _so **hot**_.”

“I know, right?”

The look John gives him was totally worth it, because it was completely true. There was no denying it. Vincent was really fucking hot. Just annoying as all fuck.

 

“I always flirt with him to piss him off, it’s funny.” Louis wasn’t lying. Vincent reacting was one of his only sources of entertainment these days. Even if he was basically stepping all over his own personal goddamn boundaries for some amusement.

 

 

“Would you really date him?”

“Date who?”

John makes some weirdly annoyed sound, and Louis rolls his eyes. “If you're talking about Mr Closet Case Fawkes, I’d have to think about it.”

“Of all people…”

“Honestly, what is your problem with him? Apart from him beating you up.” Louis laughs at that.

“Shut up.”

They go quiet, and Louis reaches for the popcorn. Rolling around a question in his head, Louis gives John one look, and decides he’d got nothing else to lose.

“Do you… mind… if I ask about your… mum?” He winces, as John turns a horrible shade of purple, and he’s pretty sure he might just crack the controller in two.

 

 

Louis is amazed that John actually lets him sit next to him on the bus since his attempt to talk to him about his mother. They haven’t spoken in a couple of days, and being forced into a window seat isn’t what Louis would take as them making up, but it would do. At least he can see something other than back of his step-brother’s head.

Raising his phone, Louis poses, and notices the emo haircut in the background. Everyone on the bus had noticed that Vincent and Teddy weren’t off in their own little bubble, and peeking through the crack between John’s chair and his, Louis sees Teddy completely absorbed in his phone.

Louis falls back against his own chair, and watches Vincent’s reflection in the mirror. He can tell the instant that Teddy gets up, because Vincent turns away, only to look back out the window as upset as he was earlier.

Taking that as his cue to rile him up, Louis leans over the back of his chair.

Vincent doesn’t even rise to meet the occasion.

 

 

God, he’s so fucking _boring_.

It’s the only game Louis has gone too in a long time. Teddy is on his phone the entire game. Vincent only looks up at them once.

 

 

Louis has become very good at recognising those shoulders everywhere. Pulling up the cuffs of his jeans, Louis sits beside him, dipping his feet into the water. Vincent is staring at him, growing increasingly frustrated. Or, Louis thinks with a smirk, it’s finally starting to bubble over.

“How does it feel knowing Penelope told Kamri everything?”

Vincent doesn’t respond, and Louis watches him clench his fists, knuckles going white.

 

He should have expected that punch.

 

He did not expect the kiss.

 

Oh, fuck _yes_. Vincent kisses him deeply, hands holding his waist as he presses closer, readjusts himself so he’s between Louis’ legs. Louis groans when Vincent’s hands slide south, cupping his ass and pulling them flush. Fuck, he’s hard. Fuck, he’s so hot.

But, his chest still hurts from the near-drowning, and his right cheek is slightly swollen, but when they break away, Louis knows. “My room’s free.”

A groan from Vincent is his answer, and he’s pulled up in an instant, Vincent’s hand solid in his own. There’s no wavering in Vincent this time, and Louis grins, leading the way. They get a fair way from the pool, when Louis pulls him around, kissing him. Just to make sure he doesn’t change his mind.

Vincent doesn’t, pushing Louis back into the nearest wall, swallowing him. Fuck, he’s so big. Louis is smothered by his frame, and drops his shoes beside him when he reaches up to push Vincent’s hair out the way.

Somehow, they make it to Louis’ room. Louis barely gets to slide the latch in place, when he’s pressed up against the door, cheek pressed against the hard wood. Vincent is grinding up against him, Louis feeling him through the wet cotton of his pants.

Kamri wasn’t lying when she said Vincent always really got into it.

Somehow, they manage not to trip over their clothes all the way to the bed. And by their clothes, Louis means Vincent’s, because stripping is a show, but Vincent was far too eager, already down to his briefs. Not that Louis was complaining.

 

 

Fuck John and his fucking timing.

 

 

“We were hooking up and uh —”

Louis can hear Vincent talking as he comes through the curtains. For half a moment, Louis convinces himself that Vincent’s admitting they hooked up. But, he sees Teddy, and knows immediately that he didn’t.

Pressing Vincent’s wet clothes into a tight ball, he launches them at the back of Vincent’s head.

“Louis was keeping watch…!”

“That was nice of him.”

Raising a brow, Louis folds his arms over his chest and watches Vincent fumble. Gross.

“Can you — uh — tell Kamri it’ll have to wait until we get back? Please?”

“Trust me, I will. _Sweet dreams, Vincent._ Teddy.”

Louis can hear them talking on the balcony, but John starts bitching about swapping beds, because there’s water all over his bed for whatever reason. “Oh my god, okay, fine, we’ll swap just shut up!”

No, he missed the end of their conversation. “Fuck’s sake, John.”

Storming out of their room, Louis goes on a hunt for Kamri. “The fuck did I do?!” John yells out after him.

 

Louis lies in bed, covering his head while John snores and imagines Vincent leaning over him. Vincent’s cock in hand. Fuck, there wasn’t even anyone at the hotel he could go see.

 

 

“What do you want?”

Without missing a beat, Louis grins. “Your dick.”

“Can you _not_?!”

Vincent presses a hand over his mouth, and Louis is not above pressing his tongue there. Just as Vincent was about to pull away out of shock, Louis holds him there, sucking a digit into his mouth. The reaction is instant, and Vincent leans against the door, biting his fist.

“Do you want to finish this?” Louis murmurs, stepping closer. “I do.”

He fucking splutters. No actual response, just Vincent looking away, as if trying to figure out the best way to escape. Oh. _Oh_. Oh. Louis finally gets it then. Finally gets why he was being so fucking paranoid even though everyone was asleep and it was only them. God, Louis even did a double check to make sure John was out cold. And if John was, everyone was.

“Have you ever said it out loud before? ‘I’m gay’?”

 

Louis has always wanted to write his number on someone’s arm in permanent marker before. With Vincent’s unknowing help, he was getting through his mental list of things to do before he died.

 

 

He distinctly remembers why he doesn’t fuck around with closet cases: they avoid him.

 

 

Things Louis did not want to do by himself: jack off to the thought of Vincent, hot and wet and slamming into him. Widening himself, Louis knows this is his lowest point.

 

 

At least he wasn’t lying, when he told Vincent that. And his voice wasn’t scratchy from a near-drowning, and his face wasn’t swollen, and Vincent was there, solid and real.

 

 

Louis had almost expected Vincent to not contact him. He had not expected his phone to light up, for it to ring out only to start up again. Grinning at the number on the screen, Louis hangs up immediately, and rolls onto his back.

It lights up again. _Pick up._

At the door, Louis leans against it, staring at Vincent. Naturally, he’s fidgety, and looking around, as if someone might recognise him here. Louis also notices how his eyes drop continually, and Louis loosens the tie on his robe.

“May I help you?”

Vincent kisses him, pushing him inside the house. No no no he would not let Vincent take the lead here.

Pulling back, Louis takes a step away. “Nice try, but you still have to fulfil the agreement.”

“A-agreement?” Vincent is following him, dodging the question. _Typical_.

“Mmhmm…”

They’re at his room. Vincent wanders in first, and Louis watches him wander around, almost picking up little things thrown around. Except, Louis clears his throat, and props himself up on his bed. Readjusting himself, he smiles when Vincent makes his way over, kicking his feet at nothing in particular.

Louis hates emotions.

 

“I’m gay, alright?!”

 _Perfect_.

 

It may be his first time at holding another dick in his hand, but Vincent seems to be coping well. The blush is back, but his mouth is hot and wet and Louis thrusts deeper. If Vincent chokes, it’s totally payback for the pool — Louis definitely warned him about that before Vincent valiantly went down on him. Running his hands through Vincent’s hair, Louis pushes his stupid fringe back, and pauses. Wow, that’s a really good look.

He comes. At the shocked look on Vincent’s face, he almost wishes he hadn’t worn the condom. Imagining Vincent swallowing his spunk made him feel warm all over, and he just tugs Vincent up. Vincent doesn’t know how to kiss anything other than deeply, and with an arm around Louis, he pulls him to the middle of the bed. Stretching his arms out, Louis’ knuckles brush the opposite end of the bed, and he laughs. Can’t help it. There’s something truly hilarious about this point, beyond Louis hitting his definite, all-time low this time, and Vincent choosing to do it with him, of all people.

Pushing against Vincent, Louis gets him to roll onto his back. Shrugging off his robe, throwing it over his shoulder, Louis gets Vincent’s shirt off. Not without a comment about the tie.

“Blindfold or restraint?”

“W-what?”

Grinning, Louis places a hand over Vincent’s eyes, and with his free hand, reaches between them. Through Vincent’s pants, he cups Vincent, rolling his thumb over the slowly growing wet patch. “Would you prefer me to fuck you like this? Or,” pulling Vincent’s hands above him, Louis smirks wickedly, “like this?”

“I-I uh… Um…”

“Oh my god, I’m just fucking with you.”

Vincent just mumbles something, Louis only catching the tail end. “— you — — fuck me — — —”

“…”

There’s that blush again. Hands on either side of Vincent’s head, Louis leans down until they’re eye level. “Do you want me to?”

Covering his face with his hands, Vincent tries to roll away, and Louis is so unbelievably over this. “Fawkes, fuck’s sake, if you’re going to be such a baby over this—”

“I’ve never done _this_ before!”

“So I’ve fucking noticed!”

“I thought that… y’know…” A vague hand motion to Louis’ ass. No fucking way.

“I’m not letting some unexperienced prick near my ass, thank you very much.” Not that he hadn’t thought about it. “Do you want to do this or not?”

Silence. Louis half expects Vincent to bolt, the way he was looking everywhere but at Louis. It had completely killed his boner. “Typical,” Louis sneers, and picks himself up. Closet cases.

But Vincent one-ups him. Hand around Louis’ wrist, Louis is jerked back on top of Vincent with an _oof_. “Ok ok, yes please I want this. Just… be gentle. Please.”

Eyeing him once, Louis notices that Vincent has steeled himself as if expecting the worst. “Always.”

And he is gentle. Louis remembers his first time, unexperienced and just really fucking horny — that time hurt like a bitch. He’s not nearly as nasty as he could be, and as he’s pulling away the rest of Vincent’s clothes, he has enough time to consider just how he might be able to change his image.

Then he realises he doesn’t want that, and strokes Vincent’s cock. Only at half mast, he lasted surprisingly longer than Louis had assumed considering they’d argued for about five minutes there. “Would you prefer to be on your back or stomach?” Louis figured he’d ask.

Vincent didn’t get the context. “A-aren’t you supposed to, uh—prep?”

“Looking stuff up on the internet, Vinny?” Louis just rolls his eyes, and gets Vincent to roll onto his stomach. What did he take him for, anyway?

A line of condoms beside him, and a bottle of lube, Louis just gives a small, “relax,” before he rolls one over his finger, lube, and moves closer. He can see Vincent looking over his shoulder, and with his free hand giving Vincent an encouraging pat, he draws his right hand close. Circling his hole, Louis watches him clench instantly, and sighs.

Louis never made a habit of fucking virgins. This was why.

Slowly, he edges his finger in. Vincent makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, and Louis just considers stretching himself and climbing on top to get the sex over with. He didn’t want to play babysitter to someone’s asshole.

“It will feel weird,” he offers, sliding his finger up to the second knuckle. “I’d suggest playing with your dick to make you feel better.”

“R-right.” Big, clumsy hands wrap around himself, and Louis wiggles his finger a bit.

In out. In out. Trying to get him to relax. Slipping his second finger inside the condom, more lube, slowly edging it in. Vincent does this heavy breathing grunt groan sort of thing that sounds vaguely painful, and Louis takes his fingers out instantly.

“Look, Fawkes, I’m not going to make you do this if you don’t want to.” Seeing Vincent visibly freaking out about a finger up his ass was really not that sexy. “If it hurts, just tell me and I’ll stop. There are other ways to fool around.”

Vincent rolls onto his back, pushes himself up, and looks vaguely determined for someone who honestly sounded like they were going to cry. “I want this.”

Rocking back on his heels, Louis sizes him up. Well, he had a warning. “Lay back. And grab that pillow. Put it under your hips.”

Doing as he’s told, Louis squeezes out a bit more lube, slides a finger in again, and then the second. Vincent is thumbing the head of his own cock, distracting himself, as Louis scissors him. He goes on with that heavy breathing shit, but when Louis gives him a quick look, he’s shaking his head.

Sliding his fingers up to the third knuckle, Louis wiggles his fingers, and the tightening around his fingers isn’t pain anymore. “Fucking finally,” he mutters, as Vincent moans. Doing it again, Louis watches as Vincent strokes himself faster, watches come bead at the head of his cock. Free hand on his own cock, Louis pumps himself a little faster, as Vincent slowly starts to undo himself in front of him.

“Does it feel alright now?”

Vincent nods, and Louis removes his fingers. Throwing that condom to the side, he fixes himself with another, probably puts too much lube on than necessary and lines himself up. “Don’t tighten up straight away.”

The look Vincent gives him with his legs in the air had Louis wish he could get away with taking a photo right now. “What?”

Louis pushes himself in, and grits his teeth when Vincent clenches around him. “Breathe, Fawkes, fuck!”

If he loses his dick to Vincent Fawkes, he was going too —

Vincent loosens as he inhales, and Louis slides further in. They both groan, and Louis’ hips sit flush with Vincent’s. “Fuck,” he croaks. It’s all he can get out. Vincent was so tight, and hot, and tightening around him. Pressing a hand against Vincent’s chest, Louis digs his nails in, and lets out a low breath.

“Good?”

It takes Vincent a good couple of seconds to respond. “Good.”

“Good.”

Sliding out until his tip sat at the entrance, Louis slammed back in. Vincent’s reaction was instant, a back arching, eye boggling instant reaction. Pulling his legs around him, Louis almost regrets it immediately, when Vincent’s thighs tighten around his waist almost painfully. “Relax, relax.”

Everything about this guy needed to relax, especially in the middle of sex. Eventually, he does, when Louis starts pumping him, when his own hips move to meet Louis’. Vincent probably doesn’t realise, Louis thinks, as his head drops to Vincent’s shoulder.

Pressing his lips there, Louis meets Vincent’s mouth, swallowing each moan.

“C-close…”

Louis smirks, and kisses a trail down to Vincent’s ear. “Come for me, Vincent. Come for _me_.”

And he does. Vincent comes first, and Louis knows its because he was simply overwhelmed, and that he was playing with his dick the entire time. Louis finishes after a few more thrusts, thankful that he didn’t have the startling embarrassment of finishing first, and pulls out once he’s done. If Vincent wanted to comment on that, he didn’t. Louis didn’t like the post-coital cuddling with someone still in his ass, and he certainly didn’t like doing that to someone else.

But Vincent didn’t have to know that. He just laid back, utterly blissed out, almost happy. “Thank you, Louis.”

Louis just grunts, and stares at the ceiling. Fucking weirdo.

 

Vincent is really thankful that they talked about his feelings. Louis hates feeling like the good guy.

 

 

Ah, Princeton. Somewhere else that he’s taken by his step-family that he doesn’t really give enough of a shit about. At least Vincent was there, making the car ride somewhat tolerable. Running his finger along the seams of his jeans when no one was looking was definitely hilarious.

But, fuck, it’s like Dr Kingsley is trying to throw stuff in his way. Like, Louis knows that he’s a great guy, with or without his mother insisting it every five seconds. He gets along with Dr Kingsley alright, they never really have any problems. He’s also one of the first guys that his mum got serious with who didn’t have a problem with him being quite so obviously gay.

Education was another matter. Despite knowing full well that Louis was going to go back to live with his dad when he graduated, Dr Kingsley kept trying to get him to ‘talk to people’. ‘Broaden his horizons’. ‘Do something with himself’.

“You’re a smart kid, Louis,” he had said one night over dinner. “You should do something with that.”

Clicking his tongue when Dr Kingsley shoots him a dark look, it’s Vincent’s response that has him pause.

“Musicians are assholes.”

It doesn’t help that Dr Kingsley is very pleased with that response, as if trying to push the football career on his (newly adopted) son. Teddy doesn’t say a bloody word, and Louis has to stop himself from jumping in. It wasn’t his battle, and Vincent wasn’t anything to him.

Why did he care so much?

 

Slipping a hand into the back pocket of Vincent’s jeans, after being pushed to the ground enough times, Louis swears that he won’t do anything untoward. Vincent relents, only because he knows that Louis will lay off. Slightly.

They stand back and watch everyone else. Louis wonders if this is some sort of weird solidarity here.

 

Louis might never go to Princeton, but he is going to make some memories. Just, Vincent is being all worried about it, and Louis vaguely remembers Kamri telling him this. God, he was so boring when he wasn’t getting annoyed at him. Like the usual kind of annoyed, where he got in Louis’ face.

If Louis had known sleeping with each other would have him simmer down, he might’ve put it off.

“You’re acting really weird,” he finally says, hands on hips.

“I’m just… I’m worried.”

“Ooookay… why are we so worried today? This isn’t about —”

Vincent’s hand ends up over Louis’ mouth, shushing him.

“Vincent, really?” It’s muffled, but Vincent seems to understand, taking his hand off in an instant.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s not,” there’s a hand motion between them. Louis smirks. “It’s… Teddy. And John. Being together.”

“Together _together_ or…?”

“Like being in the same room together.”

Ah, that thing. The thing that no one wanted to tell Louis about but everyone seemed to know about. “Vincent, what actually happened between them?”

“It’s not my place to say…”

“Tell me right now, or I’m never fucking you again.” It sounded bad to his ears, dangling sex over Vincent, but Vincent turned back to him and talked.

 

And Louis thought he was a mildly messed up bastard, but, fuck, the people he went to school with took the cake for that one.

 

The ride back is painful. Louis stares out the window the entire time. In the reflection, he can see Vincent staring at him, and he smiles. Vincent smiles back, before turning away, talking to Teddy. John had decided to sit up front again. Dr DILF and Dr Kingsley talk idly to themselves, but the mood is far more somber than it had been on the ride there.

Louis had never been more excited to see Princeton disappear into the distance than he had been at that moment.

 

 

Its not until four in the morning the day after the Princeton family outing with the Bijapurs and Vincent that it kind of hits Louis about what he’s doing. Who he’s doing. Louis lays awake for nearly an hour, thinking about things he could say to half a dozen people to explain just how he ended up with Vincent Fawkes in his bed. And when Louis starts to think about those who would really give a shit, Louis tells himself their own personal issues are more fucked up with each other than with who Louis slept with, and that he didn’t really care. It was just a casual thing anyway, until Vincent got over himself and confessed his _undying love_ to Teddy. And then, Louis would be able to move on with his life.

(right? right.)

 

 

> what does the eggplant even mean?

Louis snorts when Vincent texts him back finally, and sends him another three just for good measure. Vincent would get it eventually when he started thinking south.

He nearly runs into John again in the kitchen. Rolling his eyes, Louis takes a bag of chips with him upstairs, says good night to his mother, and goes to bed.

 

 

John catches him just before the game. “You’re not hanging around?”

Louis’ lip curls and he can see Vincent in the background. “No. I’ve got better things to do with my time.” And Louis pushes past him, so fed up with this bullshit. It’s not even his battle but god he’s so over it — he’s not even the one contributing to the bullshit this time.

“What did I do?” John is yelling after him, and despite people turning around, staring, pointing whispering, Louis keeps walking.

 

 

_“Louis?!”_

Picking up the phone, Louis inspects his nails. “Speaking?”

_“I’ll be there soon, something came up.”_

“Ooh, locker room romance?”

Vincent groans, and Louis laughs, hanging up. He had about ten minutes to himself, at least. Running a hand through his hair, Louis checked himself in the mirror. There were still some scratches on his back, and the bite on his thigh was coming up nicely. It was oddly… _nice_ to see. Whilst it wasn’t a serious thing, between Vincent and himself, Louis had to admit that it was strangely nice.

If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine Vincent running his hands over the scratches, apologising for the damage.

“It’s hot,” Louis had teased, as he had leaned into Vincent’s hands.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Vincent’s hands had gone lower, lower, lower still…

And then, the doorbell goes off, interrupting that train of thought. Stretching, Louis stands, wandering down the hallway, the stairs, checking his phone on the way. With a laugh, he opens the door, just as Vincent rings the doorbell for the twentieth time.

Louis doesn’t get a word out. Vincent’s already shoving his tongue down Louis’ throat, hands on the back of his head, pulling him closer. His enthusiasm is overwhelming, and Louis can feel himself being dipped back. Hooking his arms around Vincent’s neck, Louis pushes back, fingers curling into the hairs at the base of Vincent’s nape, nails scraping there.

“If I’d known you’d get like this after a game, I would’ve started fucking you earlier.”

Vincent just laughs, kissing him again. It’s the second time Louis has been thrown over Vincent’s shoulder, and this time he appreciated the view. Whether it was intentional or not, Vincent’s hands slide up under Louis’ briefs as he climbs the stairs, so Louis can’t help the retaliation by snapping the band of his pants.

They make it upstairs, into the bathroom Louis claimed as his own. Louis is lowered to his feet gently, and drags his hands down the front of Vincent’s pads. “Hey,” he murmurs, leaning closer.

Vincent gives him a smile back. “Hey,” he mumbles against Louis’ lips.

“I should uh… get this stuff off…”

Leaning back against the sinks, Louis watches Vincent strip. It’s not a show, even with the glances thrown back over his shoulder. Vincent is seemingly even too innocent for that, but when he’s taking off his padded pants, Louis definitely likes it anyway.

Louis kicks off his shoes, shimmies down his briefs, and sits himself on the bench. He knows that Vincent is watching now, and lifting his shirt up slightly, Louis spreads his legs. Vincent is down to his jockstrap and chest pads, before he wanders over to Louis. “I’ve uh… never done this before… I mean, in a shower. Y’know.”

“Stick with me, quarterback, and I’ll show you all sorts of new things.” It’s cheesy even to his ears, but the blush on Vincent’s cheeks is luminous.

 

Louis braces himself against the shower screen, spray of water over his lower back, as Vincent thrusts into him repeatedly. Moaning loudly, Louis reaches behind him, trying to grab onto anything that he could, squeezing and scratching as Vincent slams into him harder.

Vincent’s arm is around his waist, pulling him higher. On his toes, Louis tries to keep purchase. Tries to focus on not slipping forward and dying, but he can feel himself tighten around Vincent, squeezing his eyes shut as

Oh god Vincent was so good at this all the cheerleaders would be pissed if they knew what they were missing out on

“Fuck Vincent come on, come on…”

Grunting in his ear, Vincent is panting out something fierce. Louis clenches, knees drawn closer, calves hurting from standing on his toes, and Vincent’s stroking him. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Are you nearly —”

“ _Yes_ fuck I’m gonna—”

Louis comes on the shower screen, hard and fast. God, he should’ve been fucking Vincent from the start of the season if he was like this every time they won a game. Vincent himself was still going, and Louis could feel heat pool in his belly again. If Vincent gave him another orgasm, he would honestly consider keeping the boy to himself.

“I’m…” Vincent grunts, as he comes.

“Did you just—”

When Vincent pulls out, Louis looks over his shoulder, and laughs. “You fucking did.”

“I’m sorry!” Vincent broke the condom. He looked absolutely mortified by that fact, and still hadn’t rolled it off of himself.

Humming, Louis reaches around, fingers scraping out whatever had been left behind. “I thought that might’ve been a bad idea with water, but oh well.”

Vincent had gone oddly quiet, and Louis finally looks at him, noticing just how hard he was staring at Louis’ fingers. When Vincent notices, Louis feels himself burn from head to toe, and laughs as he is pushed back against the tiles.

 

Vincent is watching him from where he’s perched on the jacuzzi, all nicely dressed and dry for the most part. Louis dries his hair, far too busy making sure its all even to consider sparing a look at him. Except when Vincent draws closer, and Louis turns the hairdryer on him. “Don’t you dare,” he warns, before running it over his head again.

Hairdryer off, Louis ignores the look from Vincent as he runs gel through his hair, getting that perfect look (if he does say so himself). Finally, he looks at Vincent through the mirror, smirking. Post sex did wonders for their outward appearance. Vincent looked strangely calm, hand coming to rest on Louis’ nape. Weird. Too personal.

Louis opts to run some gel through Vincent’s hair, styling it back. Immediately, Vincent is embarrassed. Immediately, they’re back to square one. _Too close._

Back in his room, Vincent is fidgeting, picking up and putting things down. Rolling his eyes, Louis pulls on the sheer shirt he’d been saving for another time, but figured this was better than never, especially when he saw Vincent pick up the homecoming crown.

“I’d forgotten about that,” he mused, as he zipped up the front of his jeans, mindful he had forgone underwear just because of how tight they were.

Vincent nearly drops it, but smiles. “I wondered where it went.”

Sauntering over, Louis took it from Vincent’s hands, and placed it on his head. “Definitely suits you more.”

He’s laughing as Vincent rubs the back of his head, trying to take it off. “No no no, let me take a photo.”

Looking anywhere but at the camera, Vincent is struggling not to laugh, and Louis smiles at the photo. Stops, realises. “You should take it home,” he says, voice level. He thanks his mother for those two years of being forced to go to acting classes.

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

Louis shrugs, finds his shoes, and pulls on a coat. “Let’s go, before anyone notices.”

If Vincent noticed a change in mood, he didn’t say anything, just lead the way with the crown still on his head.

 

It ended up on the backseat of Vincent’s car, alongside Louis for one last quick bang before they really got to the party.

 

Louis has never been happier to see Kamri in his life, and let’s her know just how much she means to him.

“Wow, you really _are_ wasted.”

No, he’s just _sore_. Even after all that time with Vincent, he was still pushed to the curb (literally) because of Teddy. Louis knew that getting involved with Vincent would be like this, but it still hurt. It wasn’t supposed to hurt. There wasn’t supposed to be feelings involved, or photos, or doing his hair, or being thrown over a shoulder and fucked in the shower _twice_. He was feeling very messed up and it was doing all sorts of shit to him.

Worst thing was, he just wanted to talk to Kamri about it all. She would understand, help him through it. Louis didn’t do feelings, and it was starting to get to be too much. But, with a look over at Kamri, Louis knew he couldn’t. There was no way he could tell her what he was doing — or who.

Lying on something that was nice and cool, Kamri beside him, Louis just shook his head, a delayed reaction. “Not even close, babe.” He wanted to get absolutely shitfaced and forget the past twelve hours even happened.

 

 

Was it bad that Louis wanted Vincent to be the one to take him home?

Louis wasn’t sure who he was supposed to ask.

 

 

Vincent may not be as great a conversationalist as Teddy, but he was fun to text. Louis had enough experience with video games and cars to hold something there, but it was music he noted that really got the long messages. Vaguely, he remembered Vincent’s remarks about musicians at Princeton, and has enough foresight to know this conversation could turn sour at any moment.

Sitting in the bathroom, Louis watches the texts slowly start to get slower in response, and he catches his reflection in the mirror when he looks up. Aha.

Louis liked taking selfies. He just wasn’t normally one to send nudes. Having only done it a handful of times in the past, it had been nothing but a thrilling experience that ended up with enough detentions to have even his father turn up to his school to shake his head. Small amount of fun while it lasted, at least.

But, Louis forgot Vincent was on prepaid. He made a mental note to pack Vincent’s phone full of credit for the next month.

Pushing himself up onto the counter, Louis holds the phone out, angled just downward enough, and takes it. He can’t help himself with the filter, and watched it slowly send.

Nothing. No response. Heaving a frustrated sigh, Louis knew Vincent was bad at this, but come on now.

>> did u get what i sent lol

> sorry teddy is here

Gritting his teeth, Louis blows it off. And blows up Vincent’s phone. That was so fucking typical. Louis was starting to believe Teddy had some weird sixth sense that whenever he and Vincent were off doing their own thing, he should worm his way into it.

He came to a halt at that thought. No, he promised himself that since the party, he would stop thinking about Vincent like that. No emotions. This was a casual thing.

Standing in front of the mirror, stark naked, Louis took a photo of himself, and sent it. Two more texts, just for good measure, and he goes in the shower. Remembers being pushed up against the glass, and spraying his spunk off the glass. Against the tiles just there, legs around Vincent’s waist, holding onto the rail for good measure because Vincent could _fuck_.

Louis shouldn’t have let him into his house.

 

He gets a response on the next photo. Just as he was about to crawl into bed and will his boner away. God, he was pathetic, getting hard over some guy who was with his unrequited love. Louis was sure they’d write stories one day about the situation he was in.

> i cant send too many not enough credit

>> only send good ones

Louis gets a fuzzy photo with a bad angle, small bathroom, Vincent’s frame blocking out most of the light. But through it all (and turning up the light on his phone), he can see the outline of the front of Vincent’s pants. Angling his phone down, Louis sends one in turn. Front of his briefs, tenting just there.

> fuck

Grinning, Louis waits for him to send one back (only after sending a winking emoticon through). It’s not quite as clear as the first one, but Vincent has a hand pulling the band of his underwear away, and Louis can see the slight amount of hair there. A slight slip of skin, even in that godawful lighting.

With a shuffle, Louis drags the band of his own briefs down, until he was just barely covering the tip of his dick.

> wait

>> what??

> i dont know if we should keep doing this

>> fawkes rly

>> ive eaten u out and ur worried bout dick pics lol

Gritting his teeth, Louis gives him a minute to respond, before pulling his briefs back up. Typical. Just when he was about to get really into it. Louis half expected Teddy to be the reason _why_ he couldn’t get a grainy photo of Vincent’s dick.

Not ten minutes later, his phone lights up again. Tempted to launch it across the room, at the notification it was a photo, Louis lets his curiosity get the better of him. The sound that leaves him as he drops his phone was horrible, but part of him wants to laugh and the other part wants to phone Vincent and hear him.

Louis got his wish: a grainy photo of Vincent’s dick on his phone.

>> OMG

>> VINNY

He can almost hear Vincent dying of embarrassment from his house. Rolling back over, briefs down around his ankles and pumping himself, Louis couldn’t deny the sudden rush through him, and raising his phone, took a very nice photo of his cock, if he did say so himself.

>> only 4 u

> louis…

Louis gets another photo back almost immediately, Vincent’s dick, nice and pink and flushed, mid pump, come beading at the head. Vincent was really getting into it, Louis noted, and rolling onto his side, stretching quite painfully, managed to get a shot in with his ass too.

>> let me c ur face

Sending that with his last photo, Louis just sticks to stroking himself lazily.

> i can only send a few more

That text comes before the photo of his face. Vincent with his pupils blown, biting his lip, looking anywhere but at the camera itself. Just like he did when Louis was taking him, and Louis moaned at that. If it wasn’t for the fact that Vincent wasn’t right here right now, and wasn’t _talking_ , if Louis closed his eyes it was pretty damn close.

Louis didn’t mean to dial Vincent’s number. He didn’t expect Vincent to pick up.

Panting into the speaker, Louis stroked himself harder, faster, thumbing the underside of his cock, dragging from tip to base and back again. “Vincent,” he sighs, bucking into his hands. “Are you doing this too?”

Vincent grunts, and Louis can imagine him playing with himself, pulling himself along. “I’m close, Vincent, just because of you…” Louis wasn’t sure when he turned into one of those talkative people, but he didn’t care. Not now.

When he comes, he’s loud, shameless, arching off the bed as he spills into his hands. Through the phone, he can just barely make out Vincent, but recognises that heavy breathing, that restrained gasp and feels a strange sense of pleasure knowing he had something to do with this. But he didn’t know what else to say. They fall quiet, and Louis reaches over to grab a tissue.

_“I—”_

“Vincent, go to bed.”

_“… Alright. Good night. Thank you.”_

“Sweet dreams, quarterback.”

 

 

Louis is worried. Vincent is eating like his life depended on it, and Louis doesn’t want him to choke. It would only mean that someone would save him, and they’d end up on the news, and then he’d have to explain to everyone why he just happened to be having lunch with wonderboy quarterback Vincent Fawkes.

God, Louis would have to explain to Kamri why they were ‘hanging out’. Even Louis wasn’t game enough for that anymore. He still wanted to, because he owed it to her — Kamri was his best friend, dammit — but it was still mildly terrifying to just come out and say “oh, by the way, I’m fucking Vincent. Also, did you finish the English homework.”

Also, dodging her questions about who he was with all the time was getting exhausting. Louis didn’t have much of a conscious, but it was there, every time Kamri’s face fell whenever he told her not to worry about it. Just some _knight_ from the team she didn’t know. Don’t worry about it Kamri, it’s just a fling. You don’t need to know who it is, Kamri, it doesn’t even matter enough to know his name.

And Vincent definitely wasn’t up to it. When he wasn’t so worried about appearing _gay_ , he was alright. But the moment Louis brought up the important issues (Kamri, coming out, Kamri, food, music, _Kamri_ ), Vincent always had a way of overreacting and making it so goddamn obvious. Louis kind of felt bad for him, because he knew the guys on the football team, and he knew the people in their year. They probably wouldn’t give that much of a shit, but still.

Louis knew what it was like to still be looking in from the outside.

“Fine, forget it,” Louis sighs, when he ends up with food court cheese sauce on his cheek. Typical caveman Fawkes. At least he made some attempt at wiping it off, Louis could forgive him for that. “But, tell me something.”

The apprehension on Vincent’s face tells all. “W-what…?”

“If you could fuck one guy in this place, who would it be?”

Vincent’s reaction is so typical and so looked forward to, Louis cackles at the look on his face when he starts pointing at anyone who walked past. It’s the running commentary that really puts the nail in Vincent’s coffin, as he slowly starts to sink lower and lower into his chair. Louis eventually starts to pick out guys that are vaguely like Teddy (short, thin, nice clothes, good hair), which has Vincent pause long enough.

“Just Teddy then, huh?”

Receiving nothing but silence has Louis flare up. Always Teddy _fucking_ Bijapur. It still hurt knowing that the reason Vincent was so into it in the shower after the game was because of Teddy; finding out through John though, that was just embarrassing.

“I don’t get you.” Louis didn’t get a lot of people these days. He just wanted to go _home_. “Does Teddy have some wicked trick with his tongue or something that makes all the boys fall for him?”

Vincent makes some weird noise at the back of his throat, like he thought about that a little too long, and Louis rolls his eyes. “Jesus, Fawkes. You should really hang out with the bros more often. You’d be used to this sort of talk by now.

“Anyway, he’s with Penelope, right? Surely he’s told you —”

“They broke up last night. Or she broke up with him. Something like that,” Vincent says, suddenly distracted by the cold food court fries in front of him. Louis smooths his face into neutrality.

That was something to be concerned about. From what Vincent had told him, Teddy wasn’t exactly the kind of person to pick themselves up and move on. “Is he alright?”

Shrugging, Vincent finally looks back up. “I really don't know. It’s his first relationship, y’know? I just… I’m worried about him.”

 

 

Louis needed to get out of that conversation, and he used the only thing he had at his disposal: sex. It was a low blow, but looking at Vincent out the corner of his eye as he drove them back to the Kingsley household, it was worth it. At least the car ride back allowed him enough time to roll things over, sort through the little bits of information thrown his way through Vincent’s words and actions.

Thumbing Vincent’s knee, Louis can’t help the smirk at the blush that blossoms across Vincent’s cheeks. He’s almost tempted to run his fingers higher, but the last time he tried that, Vincent nearly ran up the back of a truck. Not good.

Vincent seems to catch on to what Louis is thinking, and promptly removes Louis’ hand from his leg. But doesn’t let go. Loosely, over the middle console of the car, they held hands.

 

The moment they pulled up to Louis’, he tried to wipe his hands as discreetly as possible. Dear god, that was the weirdest thing he’d ever experienced to date.

 

It’s Vincent’s turn on choosing something compromising and fun. And it is all compromising and fun, with a leg in the air and Vincent on his side, Louis fucking him until they’re both incoherent. Until Vincent holds his hand again, although it’s more like him holding on for dear life than anything else. Louis just barely manages to shake him off, angling his hips a bit to distract Vincent long enough. It worked. Just barely.

Louis wasn’t cut out for this sort of cutesy shit. He was starting to feel exhausted from it.

 

 

Walking down the stairs, it’s like his mask snaps back into place. There’s no more tripping over wires and being careful not to hurt himself. Louis feels like this is how he should’ve been operating for the past few weeks, teasing Vincent about his love for Teddy, meanwhile fucking Louis on the side. Yeah, this is how he should’ve been.

(That sounds bad. Louis wonders if he should write a book someday about this particular chapter in his life.)

Until Vincent gets weirdly quiet again, like he had back at the food court. Short, clipped answers. Too fast to be even remotely polite, not even when it comes to _making a move_ _on_ Teddy, just about visiting his house. Louis can’t deny he’s curious about Vincent’s place. Hell, by this point, Vincent has even been introduced to the laundry at the Kingsley place, why the fuck wouldn’t he let Louis over at his?

Just when he’s about to argue, John comes home. John and his goddamn peachy timing, as always. Louis can’t even manage to get in a remark fast enough, because John is staring at Vincent like he might just launch himself across the hall.

“I thought you had hockey practice.” He did. That’s why Louis brought Vincent back for a quick fuck-around until he could push him back out again.

John doesn’t even look at him as he answers, shoulders drawn back, angling himself so it was like he was looking down at them. Louis became intensely aware of how his hair was sitting, of how Vincent was drawing his coat tighter around him. Of how John just wasn’t _moving_.

“We’re doing some project together for class.”

Louis had never known Vincent to be quick to think on his feet, but watching him deflate John was almost unreal. If he wasn’t so wary of how John seemed to be trying to corner them, he might’ve said something about how he couldn’t believe they used to fight.

Practically slamming the door behind Vincent, Louis couldn’t deny the thought of wondering if it was too late to run out after him. In the reflection, he could see John still there, eyebrows drawn, staring him down. Not good.

At least he leaves first. Louis gives him a good minute head start, before following. Intent on getting to his room, locking the door, and ignoring John for the rest of the night.

Louis almost walks into him.

“What kind of project is it?”

Barely biting back anything to do with fucking Vincent Fawkes, Louis looks away. “Does it matter?” John never had any interest in Louis’ classes. But of course, because Vincent was there, suddenly it was the Spanish Inquisition. Louis was so over this alpha male bullshit John was so intent on having when literally no one gave a shit.

“It’s been a while since our last party. People are starting to ask why we haven’t had one in a while.”

“So?” The last thing Louis wanted was to have a party now. Despite the ridiculously good orgasm he had that day, he was still on edge over Vincent and his handholding and clipped answers and his goddamn feelings for Teddy Bijapur.

 

Louis can feel himself slide down, hand running down the bannister, until he finally hits the step. From upstairs, he can hear John yell. Something he can’t quite understand, but he gets the general message. Slowly and quietly, Louis slinks up to his room, dropping John’s hockey bag outside his door.

 

 

In the council room, Louis really starts to feel it. There’s a particularly nasty bruise on the back of his calf from where he’d hit the step, and along his forearm it was a particularly lovely shade of mustard. But it was the lack of sleep that was starting to get to him. John was in his room pacing until some fucking ridiculous time of the morning. Not that Louis wasn’t used to staying up until those times, of course, but it was just

Teddy finally arrives, interrupting that train of thought. Louis noted the bags under his eyes and how he didn’t go to sit down immediately. Interesting.

“Penelope told Kamri — who told me — that she… quit…”

It’s Bianca that draws him back into everything. Louis can’t help the snort at that, a look out the corner of his eye to gauge Teddy’s reaction. “Was your breakup that bad?”

The elbow thrown his way catches him in his bruise, and he hisses. Yet, Teddy just smiles, in that way of his, exactly like Vincent said he does. Louis didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed it before. And that fake smile of his remained even as he spilled something about replacing Penelope. Maybe Penelope realised too, and got sick of it too.

Teddy was still standing. “Maybe we should leave it for today.”

Oh. Something was definitely up. Vincent had said that Teddy was acting weird the other night but this went _beyond_ weird. It couldn’t have been something as simple as a breakup — not for Mr. Perfect Bijapur. Louis noted Teddy hadn’t even set his bag down, and just how tightly he was gripping the strap. And the way he kept averting Bianca’s eyes.

Lip curling, Louis cut in when Bianca spoke up about the lower years. Their social could fucking wait in his opinion. If Teddy wanted to get out of that room so bad — Penelope as the reason, or no — Louis was more than happy to oblige. Even with Bianca griping about how he got on the Student Council, Louis was out of his seat the moment Teddy said he was out. Thank fuck.

Louis didn’t want to think about how weird that was just then, or how Bianca was yelling after him, or several missed messages from Kamri about _where r u i miss u tlk 2 me_. Instead, Louis just hits the name at the top of his list, and smiles as he types out a text.

He bloody knew that Teddy’s sixth sense would kick in at sometime that day. Can’t let him get his goddamn hookup could he. Gritting his teeth, Louis erases the message, and walks away.

 

 

> come downstairs

> louis

> come on man

> bj if u come here

> louis

> louis

> lou dude

> ???

 

Huffing, Louis finally stands. Andre kept blowing up his phone and it was getting a little beyond annoying. Honestly, he was so goddamn pushy — why John kept him around was another matter altogether. With a pause, Louis tries to ignore his building disgust when he thinks of _John_ and his stupid issues and mummy issues and how he shoved him down the goddamn stairs. But he can’t, because Louis just didn’t move on from something like that, and as his feet slapped down the hall towards the rest of them, he squared his shoulders.

Fucking worst week in the history of weeks.

“You came!” At least Andre was happy to see him, he supposed. John just made such a colossal effort to look anywhere but at Louis, all it did was make him grit his teeth. Louis just sets himself down as far away from John as he could while maintaining some civility, and passes up on the smokes.

Andre tries to fill the silence, chatting despite the car crashes on the tv. School. Prom. Graduation. Winter break. Anything and everything, Andre just kept talking, occasional input from John that just consisted of grunts and fluctuating volume of the movie. Louis started to rise, ready to go back to his room and text Vincent (because fuck, he needed some company right now). Except, Andre brings the conversation back to winter break.

“You coming up to Louis’ dad’s place for the break?”

Fuck’s sake, Louis thinks, hoping that Andre can tell just how pissed he is from asking that.

“If I’m even allowed.”

“What, you’re coming… right, Louis?”

“Do whatever the fuck you want.”

Louis can feel his phone burning through his pocket, and he knows he’s imaging it. But it’s his only safety net here. Claim it’s Kamri calling him. Find some way to get out of this.

“Are the girls coming?”

Andre, stop talking. “Kamri, Bianca and Charli said they would…”

And then, John cuts in. “Why don’t you ask your good pal Vincent along.”

Louis turns then, because the look on John’s face says it all. He knows. He may not know exactly what it is, but he knows somethings up. Well, if he couldn’t pick it up the other day (his calf gives a throb just at the thought), then he really was thicker than Louis took him for.

“That sounds like a _swell idea_ , John. I just might.”

“Go right ahead. I’m not stopping you!”

“Good.”

 

> every1 is going sking 4 xmas. come w us

 

>> yeah i’ll go

>> teddy as well

 

 

Finally, they’re taking off. Louis was about to kill John, with the rate he was going. If he wasn’t trying to murder Vincent (and Teddy) with his eyes alone, Louis was pretty sure that if they didn’t get through customs, they might have never left the country. Hell, Louis was pretty sure they might all be in jail, waiting for his dad to bust them out.

Sitting back in his chair, Louis almost thought that was preferable, as he was thousands of feet above the air, and he could see John glaring at him. What a fucking twelve year old.

With a huff, Louis pulls out his phone, tapping out a (mostly) joke message to Vincent. At least Vincent would provide some entertainment, and not look like he wanted to commit violent and horrific murder above American airspace.

Vincent goes a brilliant shade of vermillion, and not-so-subtly shakes his head. Ah well, worth a try.

Just when Louis goes to text him once more, despite Vincent staring holes into his head, Andre pipes up. Louis had half a mind to stop him talking about Penelope, but watching everyone else turn towards Andre and Teddy stopped him. Even Vincent wasn’t entirely ready to jump on the defensive. It could get ugly so fast and they still had a couple of hours left on the plane together.

“I like girls… so I don’t think I would.”

Louis hated playing mediator. “Wow, Andre, are you into Teddy?”

Andre reacts just as Louis thought he would. Admittedly, it was a little annoying, considering Louis knew exactly what Andre looked like with jizz on his face, but the situation was defused. For now.

>> thanks

Shrugging in Vincent’s general direction, Louis talks to Kamri. Louis doesn’t miss the way she doesn’t quite look at him, and asks about the trip. General small talk that she knows he doesn’t like. But Louis ignores it, and talks about his dad for as long as he could. Bianca, bless her, can’t let go of school long enough, and drills Louis with the same questions Mr Kingsley gives him.

“I’ll do some night classes if dad wants, but otherwise, I’m good.”

“That’s such a Louis thing to do.”

“Thank you, Bianca, from the bottom of my heart.”

Bianca makes a disgusted noise in the back of her throat, and shifts her attention back to Charli, who’d finally moved closer. With a grin, Louis looks towards Kamri, half expecting her to return it. Receiving a very small, tight smile in response, Kamri stands with an announcement of ‘bathroom’.

 

Louis rolls his eyes behind his sunnies when the chauffeur tells him his dad couldn’t make it. Was it surprising? No. Did it really bother him? Okay, yeah, a little bit. But Louis shrugs off the hand on his shoulder, and hollers.

 

 

Charli’s drunk enough she’s crossing the line between friendship and lesbianism with Bianca again.

Kamri ditched the cool side of the couch to give Andre a good hug.

John has once again taken over the television, with some fantasy movie playing as loudly as it can go.

Silent guy has one hand on Louis’ back, thumbs pressing into a knot at the base of his neck, the other reaching around for the bong.

And Vincent is wincing as he tries to drink his beer.

 

Louis only knows that Vincent likes sweets, because he took a shine to the Cruisers that one night, and how he practically inhaled some imported lollies that Louis’ father sent over. There was also the enormous amount of chocolate wrappers in the glovebox of his car, and how he had asked for sweet chilli with the sweetest barbeque sauce possible, and cheese, when Louis had treated him to lunch.

Vincent only had a slight sweet tooth, apparently.

Fishing through various liqueurs, Louis can feel him staring, and wish he wouldn’t. “What are you looking at?” he finally asks, as he measures out alcohol into the shaker. Not that Vincent would throw off his concentration with something like this, but it was almost unnerving just how quiet he was being. Was he sulking? Oh, god, Louis did not have time for Vincent sulking all over the goddamn place.

“Nothing.”

With a click of his tongue, Louis knew what the problem really was. “No one would care if you came out.”

“Whatever.” Vincent was doing that thing where he went all _melancholy_ and stared off into the distance. Louis had no time for his overdramatic bullshit.

Conversation change. “Where did your best friend forever at this time of night?” For the record, yes, Louis did in fact notice the glare sent his way. Did he choose to acknowledge it? No. “He’s in our room reading.”

“Party hard.”

Vincent mumbles something about being able to have a good time with Teddy, but Louis choose to ignore it as he finally tips the awfully sweet concoction into a martini glass. For added effect, he even dolloped cream and a cherry on top. It looked good, if Louis didn’t say so himself. Too bad Vincent looked like he wanted to go Incredible Hulk (again).

“Louis —“

“I make a damn good cocktail, Fawkes. Try it at least.”

“Fuck’s sake…”

Despite looking like he’d crush the glass in one hand and still manage to walk away unscathed, Vincent did drink it. And he goddamn enjoyed it, eyes immediately lighting up as he dragged the straw around the glass. “… Is that chocolate?”

Louis doesn’t bother trying to smother his grin. “I _knew_ you’d like it. Here, give it back. I’ll get you a better glass.”

As he’s pouring the cocktail into another glass, watching the edges (and adding more chocolate because he can just see the look in Vincent’s eye), Louis speaks up. “Maybe I’ll manage to get you wasted, Vinny, and have my way with you.”

If Vincent wanted to look annoyed, it was lost when he took another sip of the drink. But his fingers drummed along the side of the glass, and Louis could almost guess what was coming next. “He’s not that bad, y’know. I do have a good time with Teddy… you know that, right?”

Humming, Louis leans in close as he hands the glass over. “But what about _without_ him?”

With a grin, Louis backs off, his fingers dragging along the tips of Vincent’s, and he leaves. Behind him, he can hear a whoosh of air, and licks some cream off the tip of his thumb. Rounding the corner, Louis waits for Vincent to stand, hearing the scrape of barstool against floor, the hushed “shit”, and heavy footsteps follow.

 

 

Louis drags Kamri away from the group. At first, she seemed annoyed, sighing and checking her phone as they walked around. It hurt, and Louis knew deep down it was his fault it was like this, even though he didn’t want to admit it. If he had his way, he would’ve been all over Kamri, telling her every little detail.

If he had his way.

Instead, he makes up a name, a background. Where he met the guy. What he looks like. At least Vincent didn’t have any startling birthmarks when Louis quickly waved the photos in front of Kamri’s face. Just the legs, of course. Louis had to preserve his honour, he claimed.

Kamri finally cracks a smile at that. “What honour?”

“You hurt my poor, maiden soul.”

“Oh my god.”

She shoves him, and he nudges her back, happy to have his arm around her once again. Louis wasn’t ignorant of the almost forgiveness, the sad look in her eye when he waffles on about shower sex and road head. About almost dates and four am hookups at the drive in. If he was any other person, Louis would’ve thought she looked sad because he could’ve done better (he damn well knew he could but —)

Louis ignored the niggling thought as he took another selfie in the snow, sending it to Vincent as Kamri looked on.

 

He takes up Teddy-watching. Mostly because John starts lurking a little too close and Andre is determined to get Vincent upright on a snowboard, so help him. Teddy is just as confused as Louis is, and he tells himself it’s for Vincent.

 

 _Wait_.

 

 

Louis shoves his way through, taking the seat beside Vincent with a finger waved towards Andre. “You’re a shit teacher,” he tells him with a laugh, and slides in.

Maybe he just wanted to reconfirm something for himself. Maybe he was just really fucking horny. Louis couldn’t work any of it out, and spent the last hour alone on the slopes trying to forget to think just so he could work _it out_. Snapping his glove off, and shoving it in his pocket (regretting the decision almost instantly), Louis waits until they’re well off before he turns to Vincent.

Vincent is far too concerned not to slip and fall, that look of worry on his face almost endearing ( _stop thinking like that!_ ). Except he is holding onto the bar in front of them for dear life, and Louis almost wants to tell him he’s more likely to fall that way. With a complexion like that, Louis decides against it, laying his hand on Vincent’s thigh instead.

It should be no surprise that Louis is very proud he gets Vincent to jump nearly six feet in the air — on top of how high up they were already. Knee hitting the bar, Louis does think he might accidentally kick the board off. He doesn’t, thankfully, and Louis’ laughter fills the air around them. “Stop being so tense!”

“I can’t help it!” Practically squawking in his ear as the lift sways the higher they get, Louis almost feels bad for him. Instead, he digs his nails into Vincent’s thigh, little finger stretched just so.

Watching Louis drag his nails up his thigh, Vincent seems to realise he couldn’t hide behind his hair here, as he looks up quickly to see goggles. “W-wait, Louis…”

“Mmm?”

“We’re in public.”

“It wouldn’t be a first time.”

Vincent pauses, and Louis continues rubbing his fingers as lightly as he could over Vincent’s crotch. “That doesn’t matter! Come on, dude, can we just —”

“Don’t call me ‘dude’.” But Louis pauses. Might’ve pressed the heel of his palm against the growing bulge just for added effect, but he waits. Come on, Vinny, he thinks. Do it for me.

Apologising immediately, Vincent falls silent, eyes staring at Louis’ hand. He wouldn’t force him into it, if he didn’t want to, of course. But Louis needed this, like some way to satisfy that growing worry in him. Vincent is taking too long to make up his mind, and, oh god, Louis is starting to think like a 1960s housewife with a cheating husband.

Fuck, that just made everything worse.

“Please.”

Louis got the message, and with a quick backwards glance, just to double-check no one was paying too close attention, he pulled the zipper down with a hand. If all else failed, he could say it was Vincent’s knee acting up — he was the only one who knew his ankle had gone funny, anyway. Vincent needed a massage, because Andre was a shit teacher, and he’d turned it funny before taking the lift up. Something like that would fly, probably.

Vincent’s hands slap on the bar the moment Louis dips his fingers inside. Snorting, he just pulls the material as far forward as he can, giving himself more room. So he won’t have to give Vincent’s dick frostbite and then have to explain that one. Nevertheless, Vincent shivers when cold fingers wrap around his cock, Louis murmuring a small ‘sorry’.

Things he had to look up when they got back to the chalet: was it possible to get sick from a cold handjob?

Fingers moving in the pile of material, Louis catches the tip of Vincent’s cock, rolling the pad of his thumb there, spreading the precome. Listening to Vincent try to stop himself from moaning was just as satisfying as having him scream into his pillows, Louis decides in that instant, as his hands remained on the bar, arms taut, back bent, head dropping to watch. Heavy pants, that hitched and caught in almost there moans and whispered pleads had Louis work faster, had him press the heel of his free hand over the front of his own pants.

Vincent catches that movement. Vincent also looked like he was about to go for it.

“Leave it,” Louis murmurs, mouth turned towards Vincent, and he himself had to resist the urge to whisper in Vincent’s ear. That would be a little too obvious to those behind them. “Make it up to me later.”

That gets a definite rise out of Vincent, in more ways than one. Louis really had to appreciate just how hard Vincent got for him. Definitely appeased his ego, as he stroked in short, rough bursts, different to his normal order. Vincent was almost raising himself off the seat at that, pressing into Louis’ hands in a way that made Louis think he wasn't even aware he was doing it. With a look over at Vincent, eyes screwed shut, tight-lipped and flushed from head to (likely) toe.

“Focus, Vinny.” His own suit was getting beyond tight, and Louis only slacked for a moment to readjust himself. The way Vincent’s hand seemed to be a little more on his side tempted Louis to just pull it over and let Vincent get to work, but his ass was slipping forward on the seat. Louis didn’t want to tempt fate just yet.

Vincent whines, snowboard jumping in time to Louis’ strokes. Watching Vincent roll his head back and forth as if he wasn’t quite sure where to go was oddly endearing, with the way he was mumbling. Louis could just barely catch his name on Vincent’s lips, grip tightening, fingers gliding faster, with every broken syllable.

Looking up, Louis catches the metre mark as they pass by, and turns back. “Fawkes, are you coming or not?”

“C-close…”

“Not good enough.”

Pulling his hand free, ignoring the strangled noise Vincent makes, Louis spits into his hand, just for added measure. “Hurry up.” Louis smiles devilishly when he slips his hand back inside Vincent’s pants. Vincent doesn't have enough time to prepare for the press against the underside of his cock, massaging from tip to base and back again. The angles all wrong for Louis, and if no one could tell what was going on before, they definitely could now.

Louis can’t help it, watching Vincent twitch in his seat. Can’t help but lean in, centimetres away, pressing his own thighs together as he watches Vincent try to fight a reaction. “Come for me, Vincent. For _me_.”

This was a huge ego trip, his own hard-on pushed aside as Vincent comes, in magnificent flying form. Literally. Vincent had finally opted against holding onto the bar, and had bitten down on one gloved hand as he spilled over Louis’ hand. Moaning around the material, he’s a shivering mess as Louis strokes until there’s nothing left. He’s spent, and Vincent slumps back in the chair, far more comfortable with hanging metres above the ground now, than he was before.

“Thank you, Louis,” he says, just like he had every other time before.

Rolling his eyes, Louis tucks Vincent’s softened cock back in his pants, and does up the zip with a pat for good luck. Racing what spunk had spilt over his hand with his tongue, Louis just offers a wink. “Don’t thank me just yet.”

 

 

Louis does not give Kamri nearly enough credit. It’s sufficiently killed the gliding mood he was in after giving Vincent a handjob on the ski lift (which almost counted for mile high club, surely). Not that he could forget it, as when he pulls his own suit away he sees a stain on the inside. Vincent had been very insistent on returning the favour, rubbing him a rough one just beyond the lifts, still completely suited up, when they’d all arrived to the top. Louis was supposed to have been giving Vincent lessons then, but no one had to know the finer details.

As he’s rifling through his bags for his jacket, Louis can feel Kamri staring. He knew that look. That’s the look he gave someone when they had something to admit, but just didn’t want to. He had given that look to Vincent, very early on. Just after the summer, at the bake sale. It was weird to think about then and now. How time had almost flown by, especially with Vincent.

Oh, that was a little too sappy, not enough alcohol.

“He seems calmer.” “Who?” _Please say John._ Everyone was very aware that John had smoked enough weed for the entire week, and then some. _Not Vincent._

“Vincent. It’s like something happened with him.”

“He seems like he always does.” Louis focuses on pulling off his socks, toes curling into the carpet. “Unless you mean something with Teddy,” he mumbles the rest, noting the oddness between the two of them on the plane. It had been pushed to the back of his mind sometime after he’d been shoved up against a tree and dry humped hard enough for an imprint to be left in the wood.

Kamri looks over her shoulder then, hand on hip, eyebrows furrowed. “What does that mean?” He hadn’t thought she’d heard that last bit.

That was a little too close to admitting he was spending an incredible amount of time with Vincent. As far as Kamri, Charli and Bianca were concerned, Teddy was invited first, and Vincent was tagging along. Louis should not know this much about Vincent, he realises. Everyone thought he was friends with Teddy. “Nothing. Maybe he finally had a good fuck.”

“Huh?”

“Uhh, nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Pulling up his hood, Louis tries to hide his face. Kamri exhales deeply then, and Louis is reminded of the same sort of sound his mother had every so often when she received a report card. Disappointment.

Louis had thought Kamri had gotten over her disappointment that Vincent was Kinsey six gay. Meeting her eye, Louis noted it wasn’t disappointment. She knew. It would be so much easier admitting it outright, but he just shrugs and smiles and reminds himself to tell Vincent that he needs to _fucking talk to Kamri._

 

They meet with said person who needed to talk on the way down the stairs. Louis wanted to be mad, that he had just barely made it out of that particularly awkward conversation with the skin on his back. But Vincent smiles genuinely as they pass by, and Louis finds it so easy to forgive him.

 

 

What is with John and killing every fucking mood every, fuck.

 

No, he was not defending Teddy for Vincent.

 

He wasn’t.

 

This was supposed to be a casual thing, but his hand doesn’t travel anywhere apart from the hem of Vincent’s swimsuit the entire time he was waiting.

 

 

>> vinny wanna hookup ;P

>> [image sent]

>> ur missin out lol

>> make u nother COCKtail

>> [image sent]

>> fawkes

>> fuck it im cumin there

 

“Don’t fucking ignore me, oh my god.”

“Louis?”

Vincent is groggy, voice thick from sleep, curled around his pillow like Louis remembers how he sleeps around him sometimes. But he doesn’t want to think about that, he wants to think about sex and his dozen other texts that just bounced back. What did he do to piss off Vincent, of all people? Kamri and her passive aggressive-ness at dinner sent Louis into a head spin, and John disappearing to go smoke himself out in the middle of a winter forest was going beyond Louis’ bullshit metre. He was done.

“No, it’s the fucking Queen of England. Who the fuck do you think it is?”

There’s a slow blink, and Vincent squints at Louis. “Wait, what?”

“Oh my god.” Snapping Vincent’s phone up, he opens it. Blank. “Why is your phone off?”

With a yawn, Vincent finally seems to snap to it. Sitting up slightly, he rubs his face, pushes his hair back. “I can’t pay roaming charges, so I switched it off.”

Louis groans. I’m an idiot, he muses, and simmers down. Kneeling by the bed, he sighs, and puts Vincent’s phone back. “I should’ve known. Vincent, tell me next time, _Jesus_ —”

Vincent shushes him, and points to Teddy, who rolled over to face them. Louis half expected him to wake up. At the look on Vincent’s face, he almost wished he hadn’t come. He just didn’t get it (would he ever?).

“Come on,” he whispers, tugging on Vincent’s arm. Despite the last look he throws back at Teddy, Vincent lets Louis lead, lets him push him back roughly against the door. Slips a hand inside Louis’ dressing gown, fingers sliding along skin, pulling the knot loose, until he cupped Louis’ ass.

“You’re so stupid,” Louis breathes, when Vincent grips and pulls, nails digging into soft flesh. “I texted you and sent you photos and shit.” Another kiss, and Vincent has one hand burrowed in his hair. “You owe me.”

“I’m sorry,” Vincent mumbles, when they part once more. “I’m really sorry, Louis.”

That made him go slightly weak at the knees. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter. C’mon.”

 

The master bedroom was definitely not where he wanted to end up, but it was removed from the other rooms, and he rode Vincent until they were both screaming.

 

This was not to validate his place.

 

When he wakes up, Louis knows it’s like some internal alarm clicked over to 6.30am, and his eyes slowly slid open. He felt rough all over, but stretching an arm out in front, until the joint popped, he decided he kind of liked it.

Except for the weight around his waist. A soft, steady puff against his shoulder. Not quite sure whose feet were whose.

This was why Louis didn’t do ‘sleepovers’. The few times Vincent hadn’t immediately run off post fuck (or been driven out), it had been garbled talk about assignments and school and the only common interests between them (which was next to nothing). Louis had gotten bored, Vincent wanted to leave before John got home. Vincent also didn’t appreciate the smoking, which turned things sour the first few times. Louis waits until he sees Vincent’s car drive off before lighting up now.

Why was Vincent so solid?

Trying to roll him off wasn’t working, despite the way his arm hadn’t quite extended all the way around Louis’ waist. Short of ramming an elbow into his gut, thus waking up Vincent and having to probably deal with his realisation that Teddy was only a floor below them. With a backwards glance, Louis knows he doesn’t want to go through that.

Wiggling down, Vincent’s arm drops above his head, and Louis waits until he grunts and rolls onto his other side, before slipping out of the bed. In the joining bathroom, Louis can see the night’s effort all over himself. Fingers brush along his collarbone, down his chest, and across the skin of his thighs. “Fuck.”

Shower. Louis needed a shower.

Washing what remained of the night off, Louis leaned against the wall, water hitting his feet. Maybe it was a bad idea to have brought Vincent along. Teddy too. There was that niggling thought, that perhaps Teddy knew. That he should know. It wasn’t so much wanting to rub it in anymore — was it even that in the first place? It was to help himself mostly, Vincent second. It was about getting Vincent to admit to himself that he was gay, to admit his feelings about Teddy (to Teddy?)

Head falling back against the wall, Louis decided he didn’t want to sort through this right now, and turned the water off.

Getting ready was almost mechanic, styling his hair and ignoring how that one bit always managed to snap forward. Don’t think, Louis told himself. Stop. Stop stop stop stop stop

He wasn’t going to get back into bed. Standing at the edge, staring down at Vincent, Louis didn’t want to. Louis knew it was like admitting this was going too far. Sharing the bed, eating lunch, showering together. Kissing.

“I hate you,” he murmurs, as he slips back under the sheets. Laying back on the pillows, Louis stares at Vincent, and sighs. “I really, really hate you.”

 

 

When he wanders down into the kitchen, Louis greets Kamri with a smile, that she almost returns. But it’s like she remembered something, and turns to Charli, talking about something or other. But then Vincent pops up from behind the counter, and his hands grip Louis’ shoulders, far too tight to be comfortable. Louis wanted to joke about this being a really good time, but Vincent is far too worried.

“Where’s the thermometer?”

“The what?”

Vincent doesn’t answer. Andre’s talking about going up the mountains again, and John’s not meeting his eye when he looks over for some fucking answers. And here his Team Teddy act was still working, as he smiled and laughed and wiggled his eyebrows when Vincent was talking about waking up in Teddy’s bed, but this was just

“What’s wrong with Teddy?”

Kamri finally looks at him. “He’s just got a cold, but Vincent is going full Hot Nurse.”

“Dude, it’s just a cold. Come up to the mountains. If you wanna learn how to board you’re actually gonna have to get to the top.” Andre starts talking, but it fades to the background when Vincent doesn't  _stop._

Louis knows that look on Vincent’s face, and the way his eyes kind of stray towards the stairs. With a sigh, Louis crosses his arms, juts his hip out against the counter, and grins. “You guys go and have fun. I’ll stay too.”

Andre turns to him instantly. “Louis? Really?”

“It’s fine —”

“Shut up, Fawkes. You don’t know where anything is here.” Louis does not want his smile to soften, but it does. “Besides, who’s gonna bug you all day with Teddy sleeping?”

 

Despite Vincent dashing upstairs every twenty minutes just to check that Teddy was still sleeping, they sit on the lounge in the main room, Louis’ legs over his lap, playing some stupid game on his iPad while Vincent flicks through channels.

 

It’s nearly two when Vincent comes down for the umpteenth time. “How’s he doing?” He’d asked it nearly every time so far, and the answer was always the same.

“Still sleeping.”

“Do you think he’ll get up soon?”

“Dunno.”

“He’ll be hungry,” Louis flicked through another app, and can’t deny he was hungry himself. The packet of chips beside him wasn’t really doing much. “We should go to that convenience store, get some medicine. And, uh, vegetarian?” Rolling over, he looks up at Vincent. “What’s the vegetarian equivalent of chicken noodle soup?”

Vincent just rolls his eyes, and sits on the arm of the chair — before standing up immediately, hands smoothing the material. Louis can’t help but laugh at that. “Should we leave him though, I mean…”

“We’ll take the snowmobile and be back before anyone realises. It’ll be fine, stop worrying.”

 

It’s the fear on Vincent’s face as they go down the hill at full speed that has Louis laugh. “You’ll be boarding this fast one day,” he shouts, but Vincent doesn’t hear him, arms tightening around his waist and pressing his face into Louis’ back.

 

Dusting off snow when they arrive at the convenience store, Louis smiles when Vincent’s hands do the same. Then he remembers _Teddy_ , and drags him inside. As far as convenience stores on a mountain went, this was one of the most simple ones Louis has seen in a while. Out the corner of his eye, he can see Vincent balking at the prices. “Shut up, don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“I should get you a phone while we’re here too.”

“Wait, Louis—”

“Fawkes, _shut up._ ” Louis knows the way he says it, when Vincent turns to him, all soft and gooey. Wow, Louis thinks, he hasn’t seen that look in a while. And it was even directed at him. I don’t like him, he tells himself, as they pick up various bags of chips and chocolate before heading towards the soup. I really don’t.

“This one looks alright,” he says, picking up something with MUSHROOM slashed across the front, and little else. This was as generic as he was ever going to go.

Vincent sighs, and Louis misses his next movement. There’s an arm around him, and a hand over his, as Vincent drags the can up. “I told you, there’s random crap in it sometimes.”

Louis can’t help looking out the corner of his eye, as Vincent is so focused on the can. “This is so much _effort_.” He’s so warm, around him like this.

(stop it)

“It’s got chicken flavouring in it, see?”

“Oh my god, it’s just chicken! What’ll it do, send him into anaphylactic shock? Does he even know what chicken tastes like?”

“God, forget it.”

Vincent puts the can back on the shelf, but doesn’t quite let go. He’s looking at the rest of them, brows furrowed, studying each and every label.

“Y’know, if it didn’t make me feel sick every time, how much you care about him is almost cute.”

Silence. One of the most awkward ones they’ve had so far. Louis wondered if he’d stepped over some invisible line, but realised screwing Vincent behind everyone’s back crossed more than calling his smothering of Teddy _cute_. Ugh.

“I was thinking I need to uh… stop that.”

That caught him off guard. “Like… get over him?” Louis raises his voice, just a fraction, making it a joke. He can’t stop his heart hammering, as he watches Vincent huff, hair flying up.

“Something like that. I hate feeling like shit about him. And making him feel like shit… about _me_.”

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god. “So, you wanna move on for the sake of your friendship? Aw, Fawkes, you really are adorable.”

“Shut up.” Vincent looks visibly disgusted at that, and finally decides on a can of soup. But he pauses, fingers drumming around the tin, and he looks back at Louis. “Um… remember when we were at the mall, and at lunch you made me try to pick out guys I would… y’know… um —“

“ _Fuck_?” Louis never forgot that. Watching Vincent try to meld with his seat so that Louis would stop talking was never not going to be hilarious.

“Oh my god, _stop_.”

“I just wanted to check.”

“Fine, yes, that… _thing_. But like — stop looking at me like that, fuck’s sake — I was looking at every guy and wondering if it would be better with him, than w-with Teddy.” Vincent pushes his fringe back, pulling at his hair. Louis wondered just how much of this he’d dug himself into.

Did it matter at this point?

“I’m not with Teddy like that, though. It’s… some dumbass fantasy, right? And constantly looking at other… guys… and just comparing and shit. It’s not fair, right? I mean, I’m not with Teddy, and I’m not with them, and it’s just…”

Louis smiles then, unable to stop it being more gentle than intended. But he picks up a packet of lentils idly, smooths his face. “Found anyone who compares well, or…?”

“What?”

“Did you have somebody else in mind?” Louis feels his cheeks heat up as he says it. He didn’t want to tell himself it was this. But it was. Part of him felt like throwing it all on this moment, as Vincent burned a bright pink, and looked away with a smile. The larger part, that he’d relied on for so long, finally took to the backseat.

Nudging him with his shoulder, Vincent laughs out a “whatever.” But he doesn’t let go, and complains when Louis grabs some cheap and nasty phone with an international sim, and Louis just waves him off when he considers loudly putting enough money on it for photos.

Vincent carries their little basket to the counter, and when it’s getting scanned through, Louis realises he’s left his wallet. “Fuck’s sake,” he mumbles, patting down pockets, checking the inside of his vest. Pats Vincent’s pockets, just for good measure, before running a hand through his hair.

“I’ll be back,” he says to the cashier, before turning to Vincent. “I’ll be back in like two seconds, left it back at the chalet.”

He’s at the door, snapping on his goggles, when Vincent calls out to him.

“What?"

 

Vincent pauses, and raises his hand almost shyly. A wave. As soon as he does it, his face blooms into a light shade of pink, and Louis can see the cashier behind him rolling their eyes. Laughing, Louis blows a kiss, watches him go a deeper colour, wiggling his fingers for a final goodbye before kicking the snowmobile to life.

 

Louis thinks about Vincent the entire way back.

 

Louis knows what he’s feeling.

 

 _Fireworks_.

**Author's Note:**

> i want vinlou to win  
> everything i've listened to the past week has just made me think of louis (and by extension, vinlou) and i'm dying because they're so doomed but 
> 
> but
> 
> i love louis slowly almost falling in love honestly...


End file.
